"Old Friend, Meet New Tummy"

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6141043369640894544.post-37654044929170218852008-02-13T06:03:00.016-05:002008-02-13T14:56:22.493-05:00"Old Friend, Meet New Tummy"<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wAvRe3cOmT4/R7LecGG5GBI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6GLmw8o2ldM/s1600-h/roomate.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wAvRe3cOmT4/R7LecGG5GBI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6GLmw8o2ldM/s200/roomate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166436296804603922" /></a> I've only had one roommate while at college. I now live in a single room (right next to hers - fate, obviously). We were paired together my first year, then we chose to room together a second year, as sort of the oddest couple the world had ever seen - me, the loud, funny, and self-proclaimed "gentle giant", and her, a tiny, quiet Korean girl with bright brown eyes and a hesitant smile. To give a sense of our relationship, I'll start with the moment when we first met - I opted to spend my very first night at school sleeping in the hotel with my parents, instead of waiting alone in my room for this new roommate to arrive. She was already there when I walked back in the room the next morning at 7am. I saw her and enthusiastically asked, "Are you my roommate?" When she nodded, I yelled "HELLO!", and with no delay, hugged and picked her up and swung her around, feet off the floor. I think she squealed (probably out of fear...no, most definetly out of fear). I didn't stop talking to her for about two hours straight, while she barely nodded, but kept smiling. It took about a week to get her to not be afraid of her overly-friendly and physically large American roommate, and when she did finally speak, she explained we had the same sort of friendly personality, despite our "different" way of showing it. Over the course of two years in living together, we became good friends. I bring this all up because Monday night, we ate dinner together. Since I had been gone for a semester, she didn't know I had surgery, but saw I'd lost a lot of weight, and she wanted us to have dinner together, for old time's sake. Her mom had sent us some specialty <a href="http://www.asiafood.org/glossary_1.cfm?alpha=F&wordid=2603&startno=1&endno=25">fish cakes</a> and <a href="http://www.lifeinkorea.com/culture/ricecake/ricecake.cfm">rice cakes</a> from Korea to cook. I love to cook, and knowing she can't cook AT ALL - I'd help her make the dinner, but knew I'd be responsible for my own pouch-friendly food when we sat down to eat. Strangely, she suggested we get some food from the dining hall to supplement the bag of her Mom's food. We started to walk to the dining hall and I asked "Why are we going?", thinking my god, she somehow knows I need my own food, how sweet - and her hesitant response was to look down at the ground, scuffing her feet and holding the food bag..."There's not alot, and I want you to have enough" ...which in her words means…"Christine, you always eat A LOT and you know this - and this is my Mom's special food!" I stopped walking and just laughed so hard, in the middle of a parking lot, from looking at this tiny girl's face and her slight fear of being deprived her mother's rare Korean food - all because of her memory of my once ravenous appetite. But she still genuinely wants to share it and spend time with me, because of our friendship - and I loved her for it. I put my arm around her shoulder and explained while we walked, that I have a new inside system that makes my stomach tiny and I can't eat a lot. Her eyes got big as saucers as she listened quietly, and she patted, then held my hand as we walked when I told her loosely about the entire surgery process. I now know I can make the *cutest* hand puppet gestures to simply explain my body's new configuration, complete with voices of the organs talking to each other. A woman of few words, she then clapped her hands happily when I told her I was planning on eating my own food for dinner and not to worry. Somehow, I think she knew she was making out with the deal of a lifetime: I would cook for her the food that makes her happy, and in turn, we'd spend time together. I'm not sure if she really "gets" bariatric surgery, but she "gets" me - and we're going to hang out some more this weekend. With my tiny tummy.Christinenoreply@blogger.com