hannie’s spot. all hannie.

Each and every day I wake up, I have to put serious consideration into what I’m going to eat. I have to put that same consideration into anything I drink as well, because it could hold serious consequences for me. At eight years out from that weight loss surgery, I can make my own life a living hell or try to make it some of the best days ever. It’s all up to me, and sometimes, it’s not even left up to me. My body decides its going to do some reacting of its own and I have no control over it.
At eight years out, I still have dumping problems. Most patients eventually lose this ability, and I should be counted along with those numbers. I still dump though, and it amazes even the most brilliant of medical professionals.

Please add to this list the word hypoglycemia. Before surgery, I was worried that I was so obese I would get adult diabetes. Now, I typically store a jar of peanut butter that is ALL MINE in my cupboard in case my blood sugar drops. It comes on fast and furious, starting with me just acting spacey, then I break into a big sweat and I feel faint. I usually want to vomit as well.

Here I sit, sick for another afternoon, thinking about what I ate and no, I did not overeat and no, I did not ingest anything I normally would not have eaten. Perhaps it was too much salad dressing this time? I don’t know, I put at least one-third on of what I’ve seen most people pour on a salad. I honestly couldn’t speak to what set me off this time around, and if I sat and analyzed it forever, I’d be here a long time.

Sometimes the choices we make when opening our mouths to eat foods will come back and haunt us for some time. Indeed it will.