So I’m cruising along on day 3, feeling hungry, but eating what I need to when I need to. I even had some delicious homemade soup to look forward to for dinner. Squash, carrot, and celery soup, pureed into a warm, pumpkiny color. I enjoyed it thoroughly, so grateful to not have to resort to cream of anything…
Unfortunately I got sick about ten minutes after eating. I mean SICK. I was dizzy, nauseated, belching, and began throwing up. This is no small thing for a person with a Nissan fundiplication. Throwing up is not nearly as easy when you have one, but I managed. Six, eight, fourteen times during the following evening and morning. Then I stopped throwing up, but even the thought of water would make me nauseated again.
I crawled into bed and stayed there for 27 hours. If I stayed down, I wasn’t as dizzy, which meant I wasn’t as nauseated. Every time I belched I’d slow my breathing until it stopped. I existed, floating on a miasma of quashed misery, knowing the moment I sat up I was going to feel horrible once more.
Of course I wondered if this had anything to do with:
- the soup
- the diet
- the flu that has been going around town
The soup had all fresh ingredients and was prepared by someone who knows how to make great soups. So I ruled food-poisoning out.
The diet, while monotonous and unsatisfying, didn’t seem bad enough to make me that sick. I grudgingly put it aside, even as I realized that I didn’t want anything to do with a protein shake at that moment, but might have accepted a piece of dried toast. I did not indulge in the toast, but neither would I drink the shake.
So I was left with the idea that it is a flu bug – one that will hopefully disappear on its own by the end of the weekend. However, I wanted medical corroboration and advice. So I phoned the Bariatric surgery center of the hospital.
At 4:30 in the afternoon on a Friday only weeks before Christmas.
Not too surprisingly, they were closed. A robo-voice advised me to hang up and dial 911 if it was a real medical emergency, but they also offered a number for ‘urgent’ situations. I called it.
The secretary asked about my situation, I described it. She went looking for a nurse and apparently found one who felt no need to speak to me directly. She wanted to know if I’d phoned my primary care doctor. I said no, and she suggested I do so. It was now 4:45 and the sun had set.
My doctor’s office was closed, but they had a triage nurse on staff who agreed to phone the doctor on call, who just happened to be my primary care physician. By 6 o’clock I’d been advised that as long as I was able to keep water down I should probably stay home, otherwise I should report to an ER to avoid dehydration. By 9 o’clock I’d gotten 12 oz. of water down, and while still dizzy and lying down, I felt some better. I sat up from 10 to midnight… a victory!
Here it is, day five. I lost a day and a half, more or less, to whatever that was. I obviously feel better because even thinking about this post made me dizzy just hours ago. But I’m still not 100%, so I’m eating a yogurt, drinking 8oz. of water, and going back to bed.
No one takes photos of themselves when they feel this sick… that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.