Everything has been going really well...
Then suddenly I cant eat.. or drink.... even my own SPIT!
Ok, lets roll back a bit. Wednesday was cool. DH had the day off and we totally nailed the garage and its now unrecognisable as a garage. It was completely sealed, coved & skirted, and the next jobs were down to me - wallpapering and corners filling, tiling to the entrance etc... so were were Wooo-flippin-doo.
So I got up on the Thursday morning, had breakfast as usual and a coffee or 6 and then got straight in the garage and on with the wallpapering. I had to wallpaper the ceiling too because of the joins, and it took me the best part of the day to do the whole room. I had lunch, I had numerous food and drinks aplenty... I washed and tidied up at 5pm as DH was soon going to be home, and started cooking the dinner.
I was so tired, and I couldn't be bothered to cook after being in the garage the whole 2 days solid, so I got a beef stew out of the freezer, and boiled some potatoes for mash. DS had had a pickle sandwich at lunch and left the practically empty jar open and on the side, including the sticky buttery, pickley knife. I thought, "I'll just clear that up" and ate the last teaspoon that was inside it, and threw it away.
As you know, pickle is saucy, but quite chunky... I chewed it ok, but it did sort of feel hard in the chest. I didn't think a lot of it, and the feeling had gone by the time I sat down to dinner. I served up and I kid you not... the 1st tablespoon of stew - just the gravy - came straight out like a bullet!
Over the course of the next 6 hours I tried various little bits of stuff... Sue had bought a bottle of wine and gave me a glass... puked it.
Glass of water - puked it
coffee - puked
small spoon of cold stew sauce - puked
I had managed to get everything done in the 'bedroom' now. Tiled the doorway opening and everything. All that needed doing was painting the lining paper and hanging the door. So I went to bed happy with my days work, being that I was so darn thirsty and starving, I went to bed at about 12 with a sad heart.
I honestly thought that I would be fine the next morning though.
I got up and made my brekkie. I always have a berocca and a coffee too. I took a gulp of coffee and just on the first swallow... I don't know if you guys get this or not... but sometimes you just know you got to wait before you swallow again. I was holding the rest of the gulp in my mouth. I gave it a few seconds and then tentatively swallowed. It felt horrible & hard in my chest. I put the cup down and got on with some other things and realised that unbelievably the coffee was still sitting on my band an HOUR LATER!
It got to midday when I still had my berocca and cold coffee and inedible breakfast sitting on the table. There was no way I could eat it. I hadn't even bothered to try any more, so I gave it another shot with the cold coffee... same response.
It got to 3pm and I realised it had been 24 hours since I last had a drink. I also hadn't been to the loo at all that day. Hmmm. I went to lie down as I was really achy from the DIY. I hadn't managed to do anything in the new bedroom as I was so tired and weak. I lay down and started reading and using a spoon to drink it with, drank a few spoonfuls and then a spoonful of salad creme - random i know - but I know it contains fats and sugars and is high in calories so I went with it. I also love salad creme!! :o)
I puked about 2 mins after eating that. I continued this way for an hour or so until I fell asleep.
When I woke up I thought maybe a paracetamol would help to reduce swelling... There was no way I could have swallowed them without them coming back, and dissolvable tablets would have come back too, so I held my nose and chewed two tablets up. OH MAN. That is the grimmest thing ever. They get stuck in your teeth and all kinds. I was gagging just eating them, but at least they went down.
It got to about 6pm when I started to get scared. Really scared. My mouth was like Gandhi's flip flop and my stomach was growling like it was going to eat itself. I was more achy than normal, had a headache and was so lethargic. My skin was obviously dehydrated and I felt like dying.
I am not kidding here right - I googled survival tips. Yep, I did. I looked up how long you can survive without water for. Apparently it depends on the temperature and the amount of energy and if you lose more that 25% of your bodies water its usually fatal. Well I was overwhelmed by gladness about this as you can imagine. GULP.
Why cant they give you a figure in days... even just an average? I mean, how the hell do I measure the % of my body water??? All the survival sites were the same "You can lose up to 2% of your body's water bla bla before bla bla" and so on.
THAT DOESN'T HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So I wrote a desperate post on a forum. I hate those lapband forums to be honest, they are so full of bull. Also everyone picks you apart, so you have to explain minutiae of you daily plate of food just to get a reasonable response - so judgmental and political. To be honest I steer clear of these types of lists of any subject because of this.
However one lady did come up with the goods and it put my mind at rest a little and I then knew what to do. I had to go see Wendy at the WLSgroup again for an unfill.
I called the emergency telephone number and got an appointment for this morning first thing.
I watched the family eat their dinner and begrudged them every single bite. It was horrible. I even licked the spoon that I had made the chilli with because I just wanted some so badly. I kept trying to drink my iced water with a teaspoon and I could manage a teaspoon every 2 minutes that way. We watched a bit of telly and then went to bed. I had the worst nights sleep of my life with aches and pains and horrible dreams. Really horrible dreams man. and then thankfully it was the morning.
We got up at 6:30 and picked up my friend on the way through. The drive took us a different way than I usually go, as she lives quite a way from me. It was really great! The drive took us through Hatfield, Brent Cross and Finchley rather than struggling through the yucky side of London through Lee Valley and E17 and all those scummy streets and the traffic that builds up through the last few miles into Islington. We got there about an hour earlier than I had expected going this route, and it was a much more scenic too. I am so going that way next time.
So when we rocked up to 10 Harley Street the road was closed. Wunderbah! We parked at the top of the road and walked. So not only am I half starved, but practically on my knees with lack of water and I have to walk half a mile! Oh the irony!
In the waiting room we sat and chatted and then I went down to see Wendy when she arrived, which was after us due to the excellent route we took, and she was so good. She calmed me down and suggested that it was probably the pickle that had got a little bit stuck and inflamed my tissues. I tend to agree with this. The last fill I had was 0.5mls and today she took out 0.3ml. I got off the couch and could drink immediately.
PHEW. That was the biggest sigh of relief I have ever made. Rhuta and I stopped at the Asda in Hatfield and stocked up on smoothies and water for the drive home. It was so lush. Drinking is so blissful it's unreal.
So * 43 hours * without food or water is not for the feint hearted.
Right, I am off to have some lovely water!