Category Archives: Gastroparesis

But Then I Got High

I ate some gummies a few minutes ago. The special kind of gummies. although the ones I just ate are a hybrid strain, I totally prefer straight sativa. I like the head high more than the body high. I like communing with the universe, yo.

I have been mulling over the idea of writing while high just to see what comes of it. I have been wanting to do it for a while now but the last several times I got high I was hit with a heavy sleepiness and/or lethargy, and/or I was crossfaded. Anyway, I just didn’t write.

This time, though, I planned ahead, ate the gummies mid-day instead of evening, and sat my butt in front of my computer before the high hit.

As my regular readers know, I never edit my posts, I write and then hit “publish”, no editing. I do this because I like to stay raw, true… and I think it holds my emotion and thought process so readers can, hopefully, feel like this is an in person talk rather than a stranger reading a stranger’s drivel.

Oh, OK, I think it’s starting to hit.

I am ready to go.

I have decided my prompt for this experiment is going to be discussing a certain fantasy I have had since I hit puberty, I have had the same base for the fantasy that long, but over the years the players, setting, and circumstances have changed. Why do I have this fantasy? What caused it? It’s so different from who I am and want to be, so, why have it?

The fantasy always consists of me (but what I think of as beautiful, attractive, very feminine, etc.) and a “hero” or two or three, usually a man/men, a crisis, a battle, and me and the hero becoming buds.

I am an intelligent, strong, perfectly capable woman who just so happens to have gotten into a lot of trouble. Hero (s) comes along a helps me out of the imminent danger and then we partner up and fight battles together.

OK, that’s just the most recent incarnation of this fantasy. There have been many incarnations over the years. When I first started having the fantasy I was very much a damsel in distress and there was one “Hero” and he was my dream guy. At the time my dream guy was dark haired, brown skinned, slender but tone athletic build, average height, kind, strong, leader…. you know, a Hero.

Yeah, a very common fantasy for girls. A very common fantasy due to societal and religeous inffluences teaching girls they need a hero, they need to be taken care of, protected. They need a man.

I was caught in that world growing up. And because I was also struggling with my life and drowning in feelings of loss, helplessness, uselessness… I totally fell for the hero idea, someone to come save me and make everything allright forever.

My religious upbringing had a lot to do with it as well. religion is very much a psychological safety blanket. We feel lost – no one feels like they got it all together all the time- we have that fantasy of being saved; the church comes along and offers us a savior, but our minds don’t think of a soul savior, but a letteral person who comes along and fixes our life and is our sugar daddy for life. Hell yeah, I will hold that fantasy in the back of my mind while I follow this God dude as my security blanket, he will save my soul, keep me “safe” not just right now but for all eternity.

I fell for that gobblety gook, too. It felt safe…but it wasn’t real, it was just a coping mechanism for life.

As I got older the fantasy would take on a romantic and even sexual context. Now my hero is someone I fall in love with… and have sex with.

More comfort, more security. In all aspects of life, I am brought safety and comfort.

Throughout this time the hero was always a man, and I was always helpless and weak. And he always swooped in and took charge and rescued me.

As I matured, my view of the world expanded and changed. My idea of women needing help by men dissapeared, my veiw of gender rolls shrank and shivelled. My fantasy slowly and significantly changed. MY hero sometimes became a woman, sometimes multiplied, and ofted became characters from movies, shows, books, etc. Sometimes the hero was a villian I fought and overcame or befriended. Sometimes I was the villian who learns new ideas and values.

As I grew in knowledge and experience, and as I overcame my mental illnesses, my fantasy turned from me and my hero to me being the hero, to me becoming a member of a group of heroes who have saved each other and helped each other become their own hero and now fight together to save others.

I have no idea where I am going with all of this, LOL. I am having trouble concentrating right now. So, yeah, I have this fantasy, a lot of people have their own version of this same damned fantasy and it’s all because we were raised wrong.

Even our fantasies have mental illness!

But It’d OK, life is good. LOL, LOL, LOL>>>

Oh, I am having fun with this writing while hight thing.

Everything I write is so gotdamned funny! LOL!

OH, I am going to laugh so hard when I read this back later! LOL!

I am going to pee my pants! LOL!

Lee(from the other room): “Tamra, why are you crying?”

ME: “I’m not …*Sprshhshsh*… I’m trying not to laugh….*sshhshhshh*”

Lee: “OK…you have fun with that now…”

Still trying not to pee my pants…

Giggling…

Trying to get my thoughts together. Hard to concentrate.

A bit sleepy now. Edibles come in waves, especially when you have delayed stomach emptying. Hehe. So I’ll have moments like this where I am more clear headed, then moments of total high where I laugh so hard I almost wet myself. Then less high, then high high again, and back and forth for a bit until the high fades all together.

Singing – “I want yoooouuu, you know what I meaaan….”

Hmmhmmm…

Lee’s talking to his gaming friends about me being “So super high right now…”

LOL

I love hearing him laughing with his friends. It’s been a long time.

My little butthole (my dog Tindi) is over here wanting to play with me… I just spelled ‘here’ ‘hear’ and I corrected the error but it just hit me as so damned funny! That type of error is hilarious! but what makes us make that error? the ideas are separate in our minds, but the spelling and idea get lost on the way from the mind to the fingers.

I keep stopping typing so I can giggle, concentrate on giggling. LOL

Lee – “Tamra, you still alive?!”

ME- *giggle* “yeaaaahhh” *giggle*

Lee- “OK” , to his buddies, “She’s still alive”.

It just took me sooooooo long to type that.

Giggling.

That word is so expressionate. That’s, like, exactly what you do when you giggle. expressionate, I am laughing so hard at how I spelled that. I’m not even gonna correct it so y’all can see it and laugh, too.

One thing I’m not typing down for you is the constant negative narrative I have going on at the same time as my hillarious shit. As I type something hillarious, my negative mind is telling me you all are not entertained. That I am dumb and this blog post is terrible, meaningless, and brings no good to this world because I bring no good to this world, I never have and never will. I’ll go to my death never having made one person truly smile or truly better. My bone shall chill in the fires of hell.

And on the outside I am laughing and feeling oh, so happy. LOL *big smile*

You know the constant alert beeps on your phone? I know I can turn off notifications, but subconsiously I leave it on because I need to feel a contextion to other human beings. I need to be loved,

“I diserve to be loved!”

My #SPNFamily will get that quote. LOL

I’m so tired. Sleepy.

Yeah, I just did that…I can hardly believe I cold handle it. LOL

Gonna go get somthing to drink. Dry mouth. From high, not high.

LOL, my #T1D peeps will laugh at that. LOL

Lee to his gamer buddies – “LOL, Tamra walks and giggles into the room, walks between me and the TV, grabs a soda, turns to me and giggles, walks back into the room.”

LOL “Lee, is Tindi outside?!”

Oh, wait, I didn’t say that outloud.

ROFLMAO

But, really? Is Tindi outside?

LOL

I went to let Tindi back in. One the way back remebered Lee got beef jerky.

“Didn’t you get beef jerky?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is it?”

Lee hands it to me.

“Egh, it’s the sticks…” I say, then shrug and tke the jerky with me, “I’m high…”

These are gross, but they’re fine when ur high.

Couldn’t find the meme I was looking for but this one gets the point.

Yeah, this was a jump back to the “high, not high” comment. #T1D.

Awe, the high is starting to die. 😦

This was fun, maybe I’ll start a series of writings while high.

So, I hope you learned a lot about why I have such a common fantasy.

Ba-dum, tiss. G’night all!

Seeking Experiences

A few weeks ago I had an appointment with a dietician. I’ve spent my life avoiding dieticians because I already know all there is to know on eating healthy with type one diabetes.

But in recent years I’ve also developed gastroparesis and hypothyroidism. These three conditions along with other factors have made it difficult for me to find a good healthy diet(lifestyle)that works for me.

I have many other health issues as well, but these are the main that can be helped the most by, and affect the most, my diet.

So I finally gave in and agreed to consult a dietician.

The dietician I met with was quite nice and knowledgeable, she also seemed to understand well my medical conditions and my difficulties and concerns. After our initial short greetings and medical rundown, she asked me:

“So, what exactly are the major goals and concerns you’d like to address?”

I went right into them.

1. blood-glucose control
2. weight-loss/management
3. reduce gastroparesis symptoms
4. overall health improvement

She asked me what my current diet was like. I told her. She asked me if I’ve ever considered a vegetarian diet. I said I wouldn’t have too much trouble switching to one, but haven’t put a lot of thought into it.

During our conversation she picked up on the fact that I have a solid understanding of carb counting, calorie counting, nutrition needs, etc. She asked me if I’d ever taken any classes. I said no, I am self-taught.

“None of your doctors have ever had you take nutrition courses or diabetes management classes, etc.?”

“Nope.” I explained they were once offered to me but at the time I was very rebellious about my diabetes management and didn’t go.

She didn’t push the issue, maybe she thought I didn’t need them now since I am well self-educated.

After a bit more discussion she gathered two guides for me. One was a daily diet plan, you know, the kind that lays out breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack measurements and suggestions. This much vegetables, this much protein, this much fat, this many carbs… and a total daily calorie count of 1200, to encourage weight-loss.

I’ve been given very similar forms many, many times in my life by both my general practitioners and endocrinologists…

The other form was a breakdown of the four severities of gastroparesis and what you should eat (and avoid eating)during each severity. This I found helpful. I have a good idea of what foods “flare” my GP (are hard to digest or cause nausea/vomiting), but It’s nice to have a good list laid out that I can work with.

We made the plan to meet again in a month.

So, getting, finally, to the point of all of this:

I have been putting more thought into a vegetarian diet. It’s more a curiosity at this point. I asked on Facebook as well as Twitter the following question, but didn’t really get much response.

If you or someone you know has one or more of these conditions, Type 1 diabetes, gastroparesis, hypothyroidism, and are eating a vegetarian diet, has it helped you? What are your experiences?

Also, if you have one or more of these conditions, what diet (vegetarian or other) have you found works best for you?

Lastly, if you have one or more of these conditions, what have your experiences been with dieticians?

I would really appreciate any feedback. Please feel free to respond and also share my post.

Only Young Kids Do This, Right?

I was going to title this “My Thanksgiving Nightmare” but that was just too harsh and a bit misleading. Anyway, I had a very nice Thanksgiving up until about an hour (maybe less) after the meal.

It was a nice Thanksgiving. We went up to my mom’s house in the mountains where the scenery is gorgeous and the atmosphere induces instant relaxation. There was planned to be about 50 people in attendance. Big family, yes, I know, we like it that way and always welcome others. We all visited and caught up and shared interesting, funny, entertaining, happy stories, for the most part. Two of my cousins I haven’t seen since the early 2000’s came and it was great to see them in person and talk for a while.

Looking back, there were plenty of warning signs I just didn’t catch. For instance, for a couple days leading up to the event my appetite had switched, my stomach was doing things it only does before (or at the beginning of) a gastroparesis flare-up. I’ll feel full even though I haven’t eaten, then I’ll feel like my stomach is a black hole that can’t be filled. The night before the event I ate a fairly large meal and went to bed immediately after. Not a good idea for a diabetic or a person with GP. The morning of the event my hubby was hungry and suggested going through McD’s on the way up the hill for a small bite. I was hungry as well so I was all for it. That meal filled me more than it should have but I didn’t notice at the time, my mind was on seeing family and other things.

The few hours leading up to the meal I ate one bite of a peanut butter yum-yum (a corn-flake, PB, and chocolate dessert), one bite of a pumpkin fudge piece, and two stuffed mushrooms. None of that should have made me feel as full as I felt, but it did, I didn’t catch on because I’m dumb.

The meal came and we ate. I filled my plate with a little bit of just about everything. I only ate a little more than half of what was on my plate. It was all delicious but I was so, so full.

I tried to get comfy. I kept arranging myself in slightly more comfortable positions, I even unbuttoned my pants which I’ve never done before. I started to feel nauseous and that’s when things started to dawn on me. That’s when I realized what was going on.

Eventually I moved from the couch in the great room to the couch in the living room because it was closer to the restroom. I got up and went to the restroom once because I had to pee, and also because the nausea was growing. I did my business but there was no vomiting. I went back to the couch.

One of my brothers was talking to me, about work, I think. The nausea was growing. I knew I needed to throw up soon. I got up and headed for the restroom but someone was in there so I went for the kitchen thinking I could just puke in the trash can, but then I thought better of it. People would be grossed out.

Here it comes! Do something!!!

I put my hand over my mouth and rushed down the hall toward the master bedroom bathroom. I made it all the way to Mom’s bathroom door before the gates burst.

Damn it!

My hubby was following me and saw it happen. as I was rushing to the toilet I managed to tell him to get a towel to clean it up. I didn’t want it to have any time to sink in to her carpet.

I finished throwing up over 24 hours worth of undigested food in the correct place, the toilet. Then I turned around and cleaned up the carpet. Mom told me not to worry about it, she’d take care of it (after raising so many children and grand-kids and being a nurse, vomit doesn’t phase her), but it was my mess and I was going to clean it up.

And I did.

I was a little embarrassed. I told my husband as I was cleaning up, “This is the kind of thing only young kids do, puking on the carpet.”

The worst part about all of this isn’t that I threw up on my mom’s carpet. The worst part is that I had bolused for all of that food and none of it got into my system so all of that insulin was taking effect now and I could feel the low coming on.

I went low. I suspended my basal insulin until I could get stable.

I was still nauseous a little, so I opted to drink the carbs this time. I had two cups of wassail (a very sweet hot cider drink, no alcohol).

Then we went home.

By time we got home (1.5 hours after the wassail) my BG was barely 64.

I was nauseous. I was weak. I was tired.

I went to bed.

Hubby stayed up all night checking on me every hour.

My poor sweet hero.