I’m working so hard on figuring out what I can eat and what I can’t eat. That’s why it’s especially irritating when a doctor I barely know acts so suspicious about whether I’m trying new foods.
OF COURSE I AM. Geezus.
I got a little overzealous last night and downed some carrot juice and devoured half of this non-dairy cheesecake (it’s not that big, but still, for me I must do small quantities slowly for pretty much anything) from Whole Foods that I bought when I picked up the goat milk.
Today, I’m paying for it. I don’t know which one is causing the trouble. Maybe neither. Maybe both.
This is what happens when I get a little cocky - or I’m just starving - and the pain hasn’t been so bad. I like the cheesecake (well, like might be a strong word) but I like how it makes me feel like I ATE SOMETHING. Liquids just don’t cut it! And three eggs is all right…I don’t think there is going to be any eggs today, unfortunately.
It’s astounding to me what the medical world requires in order for me to get more nutrients via my IV. It would be so helpful - and way less painful - if I could get more through my blood rather than forcing my gut to try and absorb things that may or may not be aggravating it. Nope. They act like I’m asking for a morphine drip. While launching into outer space.
Pain is so strange - and for the record, I have really high pain tolerance, always have, just for fun I’d play soccer in high school without shin guards and now…? - when I’m not in pain, I feel like I can be productive! Catch up on computer work! Get the house ready for painters! (Painting the room I do my routine in might happen as early as next week, I can’t freaking wait! More on this later! And why it’s been profound for my mental health.)
Then I have a day where it’s not sharp but a consistent ache. It’s not like cramps. It’s not like the stomach flu. It’s not like anything I experienced before surgery. I want heat on it, or to sleep so I don’t feel it. It doesn’t help that I’m also super tired from the long week. At least some tasks got done this week. Being productive is super important for my mental health. I’m not a happy camper if I’m not creating content, doing a work project or doing something that feels like I’m contributing to the world in some way!
I am trying these lidocaine patches my new doctor ordered for me. Lidocaine is the topical stuff they’ll use to numb an area of the skin before putting in a port needle, for example. I rarely had them use the lidocaine needles after I realized it only meant I was going to get stuck several times instead of once.
I’m super grateful she is trying to address the pain but it’s too deep for these patches to make much of a difference.
Oh yes, I need to write about the photo. I don’t like cow’s milk - haven’t voluntarily drank it for nearly 30 years - on occasion I’ll let an English person make me a proper cup of tea with a little milk. I love a proper cup of tea.
I tried these two goat milk brands because goat milk can actually be very healing for the gut. I had a great product called Bainbridge Island Goat Milk (how the hell do I remember this??) that I really liked. But I can’t drink these. Megan was over so I made her try them with me. She likes trying weird foods - has since we were kids. She tried the grosser of the two twice while we laugh about how we all do that - smell this soap, it’s disgusting!
So goat milk is out. For now, I’m glad I like the sheep’s milk yogurt. That’s a game changer for me. To be able to eat something on the way out the door and on the go is DREAMY.
It’s so beautiful out! The winters here are tough, but at least I’m in good company with everyone else hibernating the days away.
Now, the world gets to go play outside and I’m stuck inside so much of the time. Sometimes I don’t know what impacts my mental health more, the pain, the hunger or feeling trapped.
For now, this is my reality and I’ve got to figure out ways to make peace with my situation. For so long, I was chasing a dream. Thinking I could maybe find a “fix.” At this point, I’m hoping I can find practitioners that know how to stop another “bout” from happening. This last one was TWO MONTHS LONG. The other ones I had before were only a few weeks. When I say “bout,” I mean the pain is really bad, I can’t eat hardly anything as a result and something feels twisted or stuck or fucked up on the inside. Several weeks of that was tough.
TWO MONTHS was hell. I don’t know how to explain what it’s like. I don’t know if I’ll ever find actual words to describe it.
I’m too tired to write anymore.
A few more emails and then nap time.