One more sleep until I might have a clear answer about what has been going on in my esophagus. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions getting to this point.
- GRATEFUL for a husband who is a good nurse, for health insurance, for the prayers of my coworkers and teammates, for my counselor
- MISERABLE when a few spoonfuls of black been hummus won’t scoot on down my throat after a few hours, or when even a bit of shredded cheese in my mashed potatoes set me off
- SCARED when my webMD research in the name of being informed just became too much and my symptoms aligned just a little too much with a six-letter word I never want
- ANGRY with every passing day that I’m not moving forward with a medical professional towards a diagnosis
- GRIEF-STRICKEN as I mourn the loss of the food I used to enjoy so casually, as I mourn the loss of the luxury of eating out with people
- BORED with mashed potatoes and chocolate ice cream and nutritional shakes. PS: Strawberry is really gross.
- CONFUSED why I was pointed towards an ENT when I really needed to see a GI specialist to get answers, why the PA at Patient First was so insistent that there was a foreign object in my throat
- DEPRESSED as I walk through my kitchen each day when I get home, knowing I won’t be able to do what I love (cooking)
- WORRIED as I step on the scale and find that I’ve lost another pound due to malnutrition or when I remember that Julie Andrews once had a procedure that completely wrecked her vocal potential for the rest of her life.
- ISOLATED as I don’t personally know anyone who feels the way I do who can support me with their experiences
- JEALOUS when I stepped out of the bathroom from a shower one evening to find the living room filled with the delicious aroma of my husband’s pizza.
- DESPERATE when I realized that if whatever condition I have leaves me with no other choice but to eat only hot dogs forever, I would eat a thousand.
My counselor and I joked yesterday that this is similar to a “forced fast.” I’m such a foodie and I’ve said stuff in the past such as, “I’ll never fast. I love food too much. I could never.” Well, joke’s on me.
My prediction at this point is that they will go in tomorrow, I’ll have no issues with anesthesia, they’ll have to widen my esophagus some, and I will be diagnosed with EoE from the biopsies they take. I can’t imagine that from there an elimination diet would be helpful, since I can’t actually get down anything right now. Maybe my next step would be to see an allergist and do some testing that way. Lord Almighty, I pray that the only allergy I will have is tree nuts, because I can most definitely give up cashews for all of time if it means never having to go through this mess again!
Sure, I have a lot of what-ifs floating around my head but this far into my ordeal, I know that I need this procedure badly. There is no other option. If I’m going to ever eat solid food again, this is what it’s going to take.
Tomorrow will be here soon.
SARAH HARPER 