"How can she dislike an old woman who so obviously needs her help? The answer seems to be quite easily."

read this in a Stephen King novel in a hotel room in Fremont, NE recently. and I t-totally identified with it.

showers are getting easier. still have a spotter. taking off the binder and then moving is so weird, feels like everything is moving around. my stomach (what I've glimpsed thus far) looks so much better. there's a huge sunken in spot where the huge huge huge hernia was, and my pot belly is reduced to like a mohawk looking slab of flesh. will I need smaller pants eventually? will I start walking and try to get in better shape? will my ridiculously oversized shirts be even more redonkulous?