Hold on tight, readers; unlike many of my writings, this one is not funny, reassuring, or even thankful. Some may even call it whiny.
I want to believe that what I am going through has a purpose, that God has something to teach me in this trial, and that "the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." (Romans 8:18 ESV). But (yes, there is that ubiquitously qualifying but) no matter how hard I try, how much I pray, the sheer misery and unpredictability of what I am going through physically overshadows everything else and tempts me to forget (or even not believe) God's promises.
For two years I have been dealing with gastrointestinal issues, and not the kind on the ever-present pharmaceutical commercials, the ones urging us to "ask your doctor" featuring smiling faces and active people miraculously cured of their ailment. Never mind the laundry list of side effects, damage to unborn babies, or warnings to not take if "you are allergic to xyzfffppp." As if you'd know you have an allergy to something you have never taken before. It is not IBS, IBS-C, or IBS-D, or eczema. No, I have had a hiatal hernia for over 20 years, a bulging of my stomach through the hiatus in my diaphragm. And for the past 20-plus years the medical community dismissed it as "commonplace" and "nothing to worry about, and I bought that explanation hook, line, and sinker, because, well, they are doctors.
In the beginning, it was just discomfort, gas, and a little nausea until it progressed to acid reflux at night (waking up choking with bile and stomach contents in your mouth). I tried Tums, fennel oil, tea, you name it; the doctors finally prescribed antacids and later a fun new drug, proton pump inhibitors (PPIs). I changed my diet, worked out, and trusted the drugs to work. News flash: Nothing worked. Frustrated, I got a hold of my cousin, a GI nurse practitioner, and she smoothed the way for expedited referrals to Hickory for procedures and tests. Endoscopies (two), barium swallows (two), and a really horrible test called an esophageal manometry (I would rather give birth on I-26 than go through that again). After eight months, they referred me to Wake Forest Hospital in Winston Salem, where in October I underwent major surgery to repair my gut and remove a rare hernia, one that had the majority of my stomach in my chest cavity; the surgeon attached my stomach to my abdominal wall and repaired the hole in my diaphragm. I was ecstatic. Well, maybe not ecstatic, but I could breathe and eat jello!
For the first week, I healed and felt significantly better, despite being on a clear liquid diet for the next three weeks; however, it was not long before the symptoms recurred: regurgitation, pain, nausea, and even vomiting. The episodes grew so frequent I began keeping a journal, even creating a new calendar on my phone. I had only just graduated to a soft (not clear liquid) diet and had to go backward! A visit to the emergency room revealed I had a "small to moderate hiatal hernia." Again. Pain in my diaphragm, nausea, and again, the inability to keep anything down besides clear liquids, crackers, soft cheese, and mashed potatoes. Thanksgiving dinner for me was mashed potatoes, pie, and creamed squash.
So I went back to the doctor's office, had more tests, and listened to my options and the risks of each. The hernia needs to be repaired, but when? The longer I wait the better my chances because my body can supposedly "heal," whatever that means. More surgery now could result in the removal of part of my stomach or a feeding tube; wait a month, and it could be a little bit more hopeful, but there is a risk of perforation of something critical, bleeding, or even having to abort the procedure. Meanwhile, nearly every day I struggle to eat, and that foreboding feeling of "Oh oh, here it comes!" makes me run to the bathroom. I am angry, sad, depressed, and sick to death of pudding and jello and broth; in other words, I am hungry. I cannot eat meat that isn't cut up small enough for a 6-month-old baby, raw vegetables or fruit, coconut, nuts, untoasted bread, and a zillion other food items.
