one month

Let me preface this post by saying, yes, I’m going to tell you about how I pooped my pants. If you don’t want to read about that, I’ll be sure to mark it out, and you can skip it. It’s not horribly gross, but I know some people have issues with poop. Consider yourself warned.

It has been a month. And I am proud to say I have not vomited. And up until yesterday (the actual anniversary) I had not “dumped.”

Dumping Syndrome is a thing where you eat something you’re not supposed to, so your stomach, instead of sending it in reverse, puts a rush order on it, and you literally dump it out. Meaning you get that horrible urge to poop, and if you don’t do something about it, you’re gonna be in trouble.

Most sleeve patients don’t get dumping issues. Mostly it’s the gastric bypass folks. But it does happen.

I had a lovely lunch meeting with a networking friend. We were going to meet at Starbucks, but I asked to go to Corner Bakery, so I could actually eat something. Mmmmmm, I thought, Chicken Tortilla Soup (with the tortilla chips) or Broccoli Cheese? I bet the Broccoli Cheese has more protein, and I’ve eaten broccoli. I know that’ll be OK and I won’t vomit it up all over my lunch date. It was delicious. I ate about a third of it, really slowly, while we were talking nerd/geek stuff.

*this is the beginning of the pooping my pants story. you are warned.*

As the meeting was finishing my stomach was rumbling a bit, but I didn’t think much of it. I was going to stop in the bathroom, before the 30 minute drive home, but they were being cleaned. It’s not too urgent, I thought. It can wait.

I drove home. Walked into the house. Picked up the mail. Started sorting it. My stomach/colon loudly grumbled. I moved to take a step towards the stairs and then felt a very weird sensation. Almost like I had peed myself.

That’s bizarre, I thought. I don’t even have to pee-ohmygodijustpoopedmypants.

I very carefully tiptoed upstairs, so as not to leak poop on the floor (it’s bad enough V has to clean up after the cats. He shouldn’t also have to clean up mine.). I went into the bathroom, and into the bathtub. I had no idea how horrible this was going to be. I was taking all precautions. I stripped off my pants and underwear. It wasn’t bad at all. Just a small accident. I sat down on the toilet and almost exploded. I’m so glad my body could wait that extra two minutes. Because if I had exploded into my pants, I would have had to throw those pants and underwear away. And I really like that pair of underwear. I realize this is graphic, but it’s not nearly descriptive enough.

*end of the pooping my pants story.*

The take home message from this? My stomach is not ready for Broccoli Cheese soup from Corner Bakery.

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