Things That Go "Clump" In The Night

The Midnight Ride of The Vomit Brigade


I wrote in a previous post about some of the challenges facing patients after weight loss surgery, including the hazards of clumping and dumping.  Clumping/dumping can happen when the patient either:  eats the wrong thing or something that is too dry; eats too much; or eats too fast.  In the case of dumping, the food goes too quickly into the intestinal tract and is promptly dumped out, shall we say, south of the border, usually with severe cramps as well.  Clumping happens north of the border, when the food clumps up at the entrance to the stomach and feels like it will not go down.  It is painful, scary and nauseating.  Some patients describe the sensation as what they imagine a heart attack would feel like.

I've been pretty fortunate not to have experienced much of either kind of post-food episode.  However, a couple of nights ago, after having a long day and going too many hours without a meal, I clumped, big time.  I was eating baked chicken, a perfectly fine food choice for me.  But my belly was empty and I ate my chicken too fast, and I ended up making myself sick.  Shortly after I finished my supper I began to feel intense pain behind my breastbone combined with overwhelming waves of nausea, and I eventually vomited.  This is a big deal in my world because I very rarely throw up, and when I do it's usually caused by something needing medical attention.

These details are not pretty, I realize, but they are part and parcel of the journey I am on right now.  Lots of people assume that weight loss surgery and recovery glide by without a hitch, patients magically shrink without any effort and life after surgery is all rainbows and unicorns and fairy dust.  This is not the case at all.    As my pain and nausea began, I knew what was happening to me and knew that I was not having a heart attack, that it would eventually pass, and I tried to relax and take slow, deep breaths until it did.  Unfortunately, this episode was not to pass without the intervention of the Vomit Brigade.

What did I learn from all this unpleasantness?  First of all, no matter how empty my belly feels, I cannot rush a meal.  EVER.  Secondly, I learned that throwing up after surgery will not kill me, because it didn't.  It actually happens to lots of patients.  I was just really fortunate to have avoided it this long.  And thirdly, I learned that even this far out from surgery, my body is still very much in healing mode.  My recovery is not complete yet.  There is a reason patients don't enter phase 4 diet until 6 months post-op.

Having said all this, I am happy to report that the morning after the Ride of the Vomit Brigade, I felt pretty much back to normal, with only a headache to remind me of the previous night's adventure.  And as unpleasant and painful as it was, I hope never to forget the experience and its sensations.  If I forget history, I may be bound to repeat it.  NOT what I want.