Nine days. That doesn’t seem like a very long time, just over a week. But nine days can feel like a month when each day you get out of bed only to wither away a bit more.
I see a new gastroenterologist in nine days. Hopefully he will be able to provide some answers or insight into my myriad of GI problems. Hopefully he will be able to give me more than the bandaid fixes we have right now. The question is, can I make it that long. I’ve already been to the ER once while waiting for this appointment and thankfully it brought a few days of reilef. That tells me it was the right call. But right now every day is a question of whether or not I will go in.
You see, I am consuming only about 600 calories a day. I am losing weight, my hair is falling out, I am so very fatigued and having daily headaches, my muscles are losing their strength at alarming rates. I am scared. Scared of what my GI will say, think, do. I’m terrified.
I have been force feeding myself for so long I have come to despise something I used to love with a passion. Family dinners are hard, the questions “Are you hungry?” & “Have you eaten?” haunt me. Food has brought me so much pain and suffering, has made me so midserable. I don’t know if I can ever repair that relationship.
But I have Hope, as always. This new GI brings a new prespective, a new outlook, and new treatment options. I will do anything to gain back some strength and be able to manage my nausea and vomiting. I know my doctors only want the best for me, so I will always take their opinions to heart. Please send prayers and positive vibes. I could really use them right now. ❤