I got 99 problems...

I’ve got 99 problems and about 97 of them are caused by my body being a jerk. But you know what, that’s OK. I think I’m finally getting to the point of complete acceptance. My body is giving me warning signs, I’m listening to the warning signs and being proactive. That is light years from where I was just a few short years ago. A few years ago, I would unbeknownst to me - be getting symptoms that were my body's way of saying “warning, warning, stop, stop, get help, get help now”. I would feel them and try and wrap my head around them or I would turn to some weird suggestion that someone gave me and hope for the best and before I knew it - I was going down a tunnel of darkness and sickness that would take me weeks or months to dig myself out of. Now - I listen to my body. I know the signs. I know the strategies that help. I may be “fighting” a chronic illness but that is okay because I fight right back.

Tomorrow I am going for my yearly esophageal stretch. Sounds weird, right? It is weird. Very weird actually. A lot of people didn’t even know that stretching your esophagus is even a thing. In fact, I guarantee that about 95% of you that read this will be like “What the heck?” and the other 5% of you will know it’s a thing only because I’ve told you about it. But for those of us with esophageal motility issues - this procedure is a lifesaver.

Just as a quick refresher - I have ineffective esophageal motility (IEM) on top of my Gastroparesis. What that means is that my swallowing is jacked up. The exact results were: 60% of my swallows were weak, 20% were effective, and 20% were completely absent. What this means is that every time I swallow (this isn’t limited to just food and drink - it’s the swallowing we do when we aren’t even thinking about it) it either works, doesn’t work, or works just kinda. I never know what I’m going to get. I will not even look at food unless I have copious amounts of bubbly liquids to help flush that food down - I physically can not eat without liquids to wash things down. If it gets stuck in my esophagus and my esophagus has decided it doesn’t want to work, I legitimately have no way of moving things down. The muscles in my esophagus have up and quit on the job. So - I have to force it by chugging liquid and sometimes that isn’t even the answer. Sometimes things stay stuck or partially stuck until my body decides to start working. Now - this typically doesn’t bother me. I have really learned to adjust. My strategies are steadfast and I will stick to them no matter the cost (you know this if I’ve shown up to a party at your house or even just to hang out - with a cooler full of Coca-Cola). I have found a medicine that has somewhat helped with the symptoms and I know the exact spot on my back to hit if things feel off. The bottom line is - I make it work.

But…there is always a but…every year around this time, my symptoms start to RAGE. It comes on suddenly and intensely. I know that if I don’t reach out to my doctor and get an esophagus stretch on the books within a few weeks of symptoms rearing their ugly heads - I am doomed. This year, I was ready for it though. I mentally prepared myself for the onslaught of symptoms and I honestly think I’ve been doing pretty good considering how I’ve actually been feeling on the inside. The brain is a powerful thing and for some reason, the simple act of telling myself “Hey, it’s September, may the odds be ever in your favor” has really helped me to power through the physical symptoms. So as nervous as I am for this procedure tomorrow - I am also ready to be done with the pain. Done with the nausea. Done with the throwing up in my mouth seventeen times a day (sorry - I know how gross that is, but it’s the reality of what I deal with). Done with feeling like lava is flowing freely from my stomach to my throat. Done with my ears burning and ringing. Done with losing my voice by 4:00 PM every day. Done with every bite of food feeling like I’m swallowing sticks. Done with the coughing after eating. Done with aspirating on things. I’m done with all of it.

I’m writing this right now and I am in so much pain, I just want to SCREAM. I’m uncomfortable in my own body. But the feeling of knowing that tomorrow around 11:00 AM I will be out of my procedure and my esophagus will be back to “normal” (I mean that word should never be used when talking about any of my digestive organs but I’m going back to my normal which is a hell of a lot better than whatever is going on right now) is the best feeling in the world. I’ve got my chickarina soup and my soup crackers ready to go for when I get home. I’ve got Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy fired up and ready to be watched. I’ve got a dog and now a cat who will be very down for some healing snuggles. And I’ve got a loving, caring fiance who is cheering me on while writing this and will be ready to come home from work and watch a chick flick with me even though I’ll be passed out from the anesthesia still running through me.

I’ve got 99 problems and 97 of them are caused by my body being a jerk. But you know what - by tomorrow afternoon, those 97 problems will be down to like 85 and I’m READY for it. Ineffective esophageal motility messed with the wrong chick :-)