Diagnosis: Esopha-colon

I was kickin' it at Will's house, enjoying a calm Sunday evening. They were bbqing some steaks and all of my carnivorous senses were in full effect. You see, I don't eat meat all of the time. Well, I do eat meat, in the form of chicken breast and ground turkey--if you can even call that meat. Ok, toss in the occasional tri-tip. But not true meat, sizzling and juicy and hot off the bbq grill. That is reserved for special occasions.

So a handful of us were hovering over the grill, like a bunch of ravenous cavemen. We didn't even bother with plates or utensils. We were just grubbin' the steak which was covered in Worchestire sauce, seasoning salt and chili flakes.

Big, hot chili flakes.

And that is where I should have taken heed.

My stomach felt a bit gurgly after that, but I ignored it and moved on to the Funfetti cake...which, around these parts, is known as Crackfetti because I don't know what's in the stuff, but it's crack pipe worthy! Delicious. Then later that night, I threw back a few antacid pills and went off to bed.

Then I was woken up at 3:30 am to a frightening choking feeling. Steamin' hot bile was rising up my throat and I couldn't get any air, giving me the sensation that I was about to die. I ran to the bathroom and projective vomited onto the (white) carpet and side of the toilet. It was horrible.

I hate to throw up.

I hate to feel the spasms. I hate the taste of the vomit. I hate that I pee a little as I am vomiting. The whole act is just disgusting. But this was even worse because all that tasty meat was coming back up, but worse still...all the red chile flakes. My throat and my stomach were on fire. I had to pull out my entire repertoire of breathing techniques (hee hee heeew hee hee heeeew) to keep myself calm, to will myself from vomiting more.

You idiot, you should've known better than to eat all that meat!

I just wanted to roll over and die. So I cleaned up my mess, changed my clothes, reported my illness to my husband for sympathy, chugged more antacid, and then rolled back into bed. I still get a little shiver thinking about it.

The next morning I texted all my meat-eating partners in crime, to see if they too, got sick in the middle of the night.

Nope, I feel grrrrrrrreat!
No, I'm fine.
I'm good.
No, maybe you have the flu.
Do you have gallbladder issues? Maybe you need to be seen by a doctor.

This last comment was from Richie, who is a nurse. A crazy people nurse, but a nurse nonetheless. I texted him back and told him that I got my gallbladder removed about ten years ago. Then he responded with, "Maybe that's why you got sick. Your body can't digest the fat in the meat."

And then ten years of heartburn, stomach cramps and the squirts came flashing before my eyes. The reason why I earned the nickname "Esopha-colon" from my little brother. He says my food goes from my esophagus and then immediately to my colon because the turnaround is so...quick. Well, duh. Maybe that's why I have the issues I have. No one told me I actually needed that stupid gallbladder!

All I know is, after I had my second child, I would have these excruciating pains in my stomach-- pain even worse than childbirth! When the doctor told me my gallbladder was infected, I said take it, take it out now, I don't care how you have to do it, just remove it so I don't have any of those pains ever again!

And now it's gone and all I have left are three buckshot scars on my stomach (Michael likes to say its where I got shot in a drive-by) and bellybutton. Had I known what I know now, I definitely would have searched for a natural way to remedy the situation.

Cuz I don't care what people say--a kidney, a spleen, a gallbladder--if God didn't want you to have it, He wouldn't have given it to you in the first place! So it turns out I needed that dumb gallbladder after all. After doing some research online, I am floored. Floored that so many people suffer from the same side effects and floored that I was so willing to get my gallbladder removed, that I didn't count the costs although I realize that pain was a huge motivating factor. I didn't do any research, I just blindly trusted my doctor when he said I would be fine without my gallbladder.

Some of my research turned up acid reflux, diarrhea, bloating and unexplained weight gain. Geez. And it only took me ten years to figure this out. So tomorrow I am off to buy some homeopathic meds and some enzymes to see if it will help.

I don't wanna be called Esopha-colon anymore!
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