The pouch has a name...

May 31, 2010

I don't think I fully understood the whole pouch naming thing until after surgery.  But, it really is a whole new creature inside of your body.  It's made FROM you, but it's definitely not always on your side.  It has its own personality.  Sometimes it likes you and it likes what you feed it.  Sometimes it doesn't like what you feed it today even though it was fine with it yesterday.

All in all, it just acts like another little human inside of you.  It has good days and bad.  It can be moody.  It talks ALL THE DAMN TIME (gurgle, gurgle, gurrrrrgle).  It's a person, I'm telling you!

And... this person's name is Javier.

Why Javier? 

I dunno.  I've been thinking of the whole pouch name thing for a while.  I wanted to be able to refer to it as something funnier and less clinical than "the pouch".  And I wanted something fun but meaningful.  I got to thinking about it, and I realized that my pouch was figuratively born in Mexico.  Hmm... Latin name?  Sounds good.  But which?  Hey, isn't the guy who made my pouch sort of like... it's father?  HAHAHAHAHA... sort of.  I could name it after him.  OK, but I can't call it Horacio.  Then my friends and family would think I was talking about  my surgeon when I said something like, "Horacio doesn't like 2% milk."  or  "Horacio is being a real jerk today."  Nahhhh... but.... HEY!  His middle name is Javier!  I like that.  

So, there it is.  "The pouch" is now Javier.  Javier and I are going to try to get to know each other better.  I've promised not to abuse him and he, I hope, is promising not to make me miserable.  

I'll take that last gurgle as a yes.

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