When you can’t eat part one: The facts

When I was in the hospital last September a lot of people there were very curious about the whole not eating thing and I got a lot of questions about it…my favourite/the most ridiculous being, “but have you ever tried eating anything?” I decided to blog about this topic, and I even asked if any of you had any questions about it over on my Facebook page, and then no post ever appeared.

Here’s the thing. It’s not that I forgot, it’s that when I started writing there was just SO much to say and I had a really hard time concisely explaining it all. But what better time than Feeding Tube Awareness Week to finally put into words what it’s like not being able to eat. Because there’s so much to say, I’m doing this in two parts.

Up first? The facts.

Disclaimer: this is just my point of view. I can’t speak for anyone else because every person experiences and reacts to things in their own way.

Alright. So, I have gastroparesis secondary to Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Without getting into too much detail, partly because it’s not all that exciting and partly because science doesn’t even know all the ins and outs yet, faulty connective tissue impairs my digestive tract’s ability to function properly and so my stomach and intestines don’t move food along efficiently.

Question: Are you allowed to eat?

Yes. There is nothing or no one physically stopping me from eating. I can swallow safely (though pills do have a tendency to get stuck in my throat and start to disintegrate there…ouch) and my doctors encourage me to eat when I can to maintain as much gut function as possible. However, the consequences of eating can be brutal.

Question: What happens when you eat?

Bad things. Next question…

Hah, no but in all seriousness bad things happen when I eat. Nausea is my biggest battle in life. I am constantly nauseated to some degree, but add eating and drinking to the mix, even small amounts, and my nausea gets kicked up a notch or two…or fifty. I have four different nausea medications on hand, but they don’t work miracles, they just take the edge off.

I get full very quickly. Just taking a couple of pills can make me full. The technical name for this is early satiety. And I don’t mean wow-that-was-a-satisfying-dinner-but-now-I-don’t-want-to-eat-anymore full, I mean I-can’t-believe-I-ate-all-that-what-was-I-thinking-wow-I-feel-so-so-sick-now full. In addition to the nausea, this early satiety comes with a lot of other symptoms such as bloating, abdominal pain, gas and reflux. I have a lot of chest and throat pain from reflux, and it’s not very lady-in-waiting-like of me but I love burping. Ew, right? Yeah well, let me tell you, when you’re so full and uncomfortable to the point of gagging and crying, relieving some of that pressure is magical. Keep in mind that because my stomach empties slowly these symptoms can stick around for hours.

Question: So what do you eat then?

Not much. Saltines. I can usually eat two or three saltines a day. I can drink maybe 100 to 200 mL of fluid day? Maybe. And not all in one sitting because that would be bad news bears.


Lifesaver rolls in bulk. Thanks Amazon.

It takes me an entire day to drink that much, and a lot of that is just from taking meds. I also eat a small amount of fruit sorbet, a spoonful or two several times a week. We buy it from the gelato place near my house so it’s delicious but I do have to be careful as most of the flavors I like cause reflux. And then I can eat a few orange tic tacs, lifesavers or jolly ranchers here and there. Not exactly a good-for-the-teeth diet, but I work really hard to compensate for this and luckily I have a very understanding dentist who doesn’t shame me for eating candy.

Besides a tiny taste of things now and again, that’s basically all I eat. And even those things give me symptoms, sometimes really terrible symptoms, but not eating anything at all is also terrible, just in a different way, so it’s a balance.

Question: Do you feel hungry?

I don’t really get hungry, no. That growling stomach? Those hunger pangs? Those rarely happen to me anymore. I’m not an expert on the physiology of hunger and digestion, but I know that while part of hunger and satiety comes from stretch receptors and signals throughout the GI tract, part of it comes from levels of nutrients in the bloodstream. Because I’m still getting all the nutrients I need from my TPN, my body has no physiological need for food, which is what hunger is. Once in a while I will feel a small sensation of, “I think I’d like some food please,” from my stomach but when that happens it’s usually a trick! As soon as I feed it my stomach says, “Oh hold up I’m remembering that I actually don’t like food…sorry.” Sometimes I also experience that I-feel-nauseous-but-I-think-it’s-because-I-need-to-eat feeling. Also a trick.

Fun fact: my friend Leah and I frequently text each other “GTAF” which stands for Got Tricked Ate Food. It happens often enough that we have shorthand for it.

Question: Do you feel full?

Yes! I feel full pretty much all the time. Sometimes it’s just that I feel no need to eat, and sometimes I feel like I just ate even though I didn’t. And then of course when I do eat or drink anything, as I already described, that feeling of fullness reaches a miserable level.

Question: Do you get cravings?

Yes. Oh my goodness, yes! I just talked about hunger and fullness, but another pivotal player here is appetite, which is the desire to eat. I find appetite incredibly fascinating because even when I’m nauseated I still sometimes find myself wanting food despite the fact that it almost always ends badly. Oh and here’s another little fun fact for you. PMS cravings? Real. 100% real. Ladies, take it from someone who can’t eat and doesn’t even like chocolate that much, that chocolate craving you cannot ignore is legitimate.

IMG_1526 (1)

Shhhh. Hoping no one catches me browsing the fridge.

When it comes to resisting food cravings, I find placement is key. If I open the fridge and see grapes (my all-time favourite food) front and centre then I am going to have a hard time resisting them, however if they are buried in the crisper then they’re easier to ignore. Ease of access is another important factor. If I have to take a lid off of a container or rearrange things in the cupboard to get to something then I’m less likely to make the effort. As well, the longer it takes for me to get to a food, the more time I have for reason and self-control to kick in. Sometimes, though, I straight up have to get my mom to hide food from me. Like pretzels. I will probably still go looking for them but luckily she is very inventive when it comes to hiding spots.

Okay now, brace yourselves or skip to the end, because the last thing I’m going to talk about here is poop. Not mine specifically! Yikes. Just in general.

Question: Do you still poop?

You have no idea how many times I have been asked this question! If my life were a drinking game I would take a shot (do a shot?…have a shot?…drink a shot?…can you tell I’ve been sick the entire time I’ve been legal?) every time someone awkwardly asked me this question while trying not to be awkward. Here are some variations: So um, if you don’t eat anything, do you uh…? If your stomach doesn’t empty properly how do you, well, you know…? I know you’re not really putting anything into you sooo does um, does anything, um, come out of you?

This question honestly doesn’t bother me because let’s face it, if I wasn’t living it I would be curious, too! The answer is yes. Even when you don’t eat your body still produces and secretes digestive juices into your GI tract and not everything gets reabsorbed. Your body also uses your GI tract to get rid of other wastes such as bacteria and old cell components. So yup, there is still some stuff to get rid of. The reality for those of us with chronic GI disorders is that we spend way more time than we would like thinking and talking about poop, to the point that we lose all concept of TMI, but for the sake of the rest of you, I’ll just leave it here!

And there you have it. Those are some of the facts about my life without food. Tomorrow I’ll be back with part two: the feelings.

Stay tuned!




A day in the life part two: the rest of it

So yesterday I talked about feeding tubes in general and my earlier tubie days, and now I’m going to talk about the rest of it.

After my surgery it took a few months for me to adjust to it all and get myself into a routine, but by the spring I was doing really well with my feeding tube! I was gaining weight, I had more energy and while my symptoms were still present they were being better controlled. And once I got the portable pump and could run my feeds during the day, free from an IV pole, I was actually able to live in the real world a little bit. Probably the most fun I had as a tubie on the go was being able to go my best friend’s convocation ceremony. Photo evidence of said shenanigans:

BFF Convocation

Out in the real world I also acquired many anecdotes about pump alarms going off in public and other peoples’ reactions to the whole feeding tube situation. Stories for another time.

Unfortunately my feeding tube success was short-lived. By the summer things were going downhill and by the fall I was in the hospital on TPN. Which brings me to lifeline number two. My central line:

Feeding Tube Awareness Week (8)

I wrote several posts during my time in the hospital that talk more about TPN, but here’s a quick refresh. TPN stands for Total Parenteral Nutrition. Enteral refers to the GI tract (tube feeding is called enteral nutrition), the prefix ‘para’ means beside or to the side of, so put it together and ‘parenteral’ nutrition is nutrition that doesn’t involve the GI tract and instead is delivered intravenously. Because TPN is really hard on veins, it can’t be administered in peripheral IVs, the ones you usually see in wrists and forearms. Instead it must be delivered through central line IVs. My central line, as you can see above, goes into my chest and then is tunneled up under my skin, over my collarbone to where it actually enters my circulatory system at my internal jugular vein. From there it is threaded down through my veins and the tip sits right at the junction of my superior vena cava and the right atrium of my heart. There’s another children’s book in that journey, I’m sure! Up close you can actually see and feel where the line is tunneled…cool? Creepy? Perhaps a bit of both.

Unlike feeding tubes which don’t require sterile care but just the same amount of cleanliness you would use for preparing food, because this line goes directly into my bloodstream sterility is of the utmost importance. Basically this translates to a ton of hand sanitizer and alcohol swabs up the wazoo. It makes showering an adventure in saran wrap and tape. Similar to my feeding tube, I can’t feel this line either. It does, however, feel cool (temperature wise, not like “wow, cool!”) when I flush saline through it.

What most people don’t realize is that TPN is usually specially formulated for the patient. With tube feeding, there are tons of different formulas available and different people will use different ones depending on their needs, but my TPN is made specifically for me. I get bloodwork done every month to monitor my electrolytes, blood chemistry, hydration status and liver function and then if any of those levels are off my TPN prescription can be adjusted accordingly. The TPN itself is made at a pharmacy in Calgary, gets shipped to the Burnaby location and then is delivered to me every two weeks. In order to prolong the life of the TPN so that biweekly delivery is possible, it must be kept in the fridge. The bag comes with two chambers, one for lipids, and the other for amino acids, dextrose and electrolytes. Right before I hook up for the night I remove the divider, mix it all together and use a needle syringe to draw up and add two vials of vitamins.

So here’s what 24 hours of keeping me alive looks like in medical supplies:

Medical Supplies (6)

Yeah, I have a sharps container in my bedroom…you don’t? And yeah, that’s a lot of packaging and waste, however thanks to my aunt the recycling guru we have found a way to really cut down on the garbage! If that’s just 24 hours, and I get two weeks of TPN supplies at a time, plus feeding tube supplies, you can imagine that storage becomes an issue. Basically this means that I have medical supplies stashed everywhere…I’m pretty sure there are even some cases of formula in the shoe cupboard under the stairs. Oh, and then there is the full size fridge for the TPN itself.

Medical Supply Storage

And even though I’m on TPN right now and not using my feeding tube for nutrition, I still use it every day. I take most of my meds through my tube, either in liquid form or crushing up the pills that I can. Sometimes just drinking enough to take pills can make me nauseous and bloated so bypassing that is a huge relief. Plus there is the fact that when your stomach has somewhat erratic function being able to put meds right into your intestine, instead of waiting hours and hours for them to kick in, is a big help.

So all of that is how it works. But what does actually living it look like?

Well, sometimes, with the right lighting, a well-timed shower and a spurt of energy, it can look like this:

New Year

But far more often it looks like this:

Feeling sick (8)

Lying on the floor because I’m too lightheaded to sit or stand, ice pack around my neck to try and calm the intense nausea, dark circles below my eyes (and actually above them too, because I’m just that skilled). And often it looks like this:

Feeling sick (10)

Done. Just so done with the day, with life, with reality. Ice pack on my head because it’s the only thing that soothes a two-month headache, no energy to keep my eyes fully open. And, since I’m already sharing the selfies that are going to turn me into a model one day, a lot of times it looks like this, too:

Feeling sick (9)

Also done. Hair that needs washing, puffy eyes from new medication that isn’t even working, desperately wishing for a break from my body.

Sometimes brushing my teeth is enough to make my heart race at 150 beats per minute. Sometimes taking a shower is enough to knock me on my back for a day or two. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because I’m nauseous. Sometimes I’ll be okay one minute and lying on the floor with my feet up in the air the next in an effort to avoid potentially passing out. Sometimes I feel hungry, take a few bites of something, and then spend the rest of the day paying for it. Sometimes I lie on my bed for hours doing nothing, not sleeping but not really awake either. Sometimes I go crazy with boredom because I have no energy to do anything, but enough mental energy to know that doing nothing is boring. Sometimes I cry because I’m impossibly frustrated with my life. And sometimes I yell out, “That’s it! I can’t be patient anymore! This isn’t fair!” and then I slump down to the floor because I know there is nothing I can do but keep waiting, remain patient, and accept that life isn’t fair.

There’s a difference between being alive and living, having a quality of life. That’s where awareness comes in. And that’s why I’m writing this, in the hopes that more awareness will lead to better understanding, better treatments and ultimately a better quality of life. I’m writing this in the hopes that one day I won’t have to risk serious infection or liver failure in order to live. I’m writing this to make the invisible parts of my illness a little more visible.

It’s really hard sometimes, but sometimes it’s really wonderful, too. Everyone can relate to that, I think. At the end of the day, don’t get me wrong here, I’m incredibly grateful that science has figured out a way to keep me alive even though I can’t eat. At the end of the day I’m incredibly grateful that there are still reasons to smile and laugh.

And I’m also incredibly grateful for you, for taking the time to read this and making me, and everyone else facing the same struggles as me, feel a little less invisible.

So thank you! And once again, Happy Feeding Tube Awareness Week!

Feeding Tube Awarness Week

A day in the life part one: Feeding Tube 101

Happy Feeding Tube Awareness Week! The Feeding Tube Awareness Foundation started this awareness week in an effort to eliminate the stigma around feeding tubes and celebrate the lives they make possible. The theme of Feeding Tube Awareness Week this year is “the truth about tube feeding” and the focus for today is education, so in the spirit of it all I’m sharing a little bit more about the medical-y day to day of my life. Today is Feeding Tube 101, and since my life got slightly more complicated when I started TPN in the fall, tomorrow I’ll talk about the rest of it.

Disclaimer, my day to day life is not going to be the same as someone else with a feeding tube. There are hundreds of different reasons why people need tubes, and as such everyone’s day to day will be a little (or a lot) different.

Let’s start with a crash course in feeding tubes. There are many different brands, styles and sizes of tubes. And now a rhyme:

Some tubes are short. Some tubes are long. But all tubes just want to feel like they belong!

But really, there are so many different kinds! Let me decode them for you: G=gastric, or into the stomach; J=jejunal, or into the jejunum which is the second part of the small intestine; N=nasal, through the nose; Fr=French, which is the unit of measurement used to describe feeding tube diameters. G tubes are used when the stomach still functions properly. Depending on why someone has a G tube, they may do bolus feeds, which means a large volume over a short period (much like a regular meal) or continuous feeds, which involves a set rate of formula per hour over many hours. J tubes are used when the stomach function is impaired and the formula needs to be delivered directly into the intestine. J tube feeds must be delivered continuously at a lower rate because while the stomach has a ton of reservoir volume, the small intestine has a much smaller capacity. And to make things even more confusing there are also the hybrid GJ tubes, which have access to both the stomach (G) and the intestine (J) all through the same stoma, or opening, in the stomach. Those are the basics, but tubes can also be differentiated by make, placement and style.

Fun (irrelevant for most people reading this) fact: I have a 16Fr Mic J tube.

Once upon a time, in September and October of 2013, I actually had an NJ tube (nasal-jejunal) which means it went up my nose, down the back of my throat (yes, I could see it when I opened my mouth), down my esophagus, past my stomach, through my duodenum and into my jejunum. Quite the journey really…perhaps I shall write a children’s book about it! Nasal tubes are usually used when tube feeding is temporary or as a trial for tolerance to tube feeding before placing a more permanent one. Here’s what I looked like for 26 terrible days with my NJ tube:

NJ tube collage

I (un)affectionately referred to this tube as Babar. You can see the resemblance, right?


Despite my smile, I really wasn’t lying when I said those were 26 terrible days. I’ll spare you the traumatic details but I ended up having it pulled six days early in the ER because I could not tolerate it any longer. But regardless of how awful that time in my life was, I mostly just shake my head and laugh about it now.

I started with an NJ tube because the hope was that it would just be temporary. I gave it my best effort but my need for nutritional support persisted, which is why I had my J tube surgically placed in January of 2014.

Here’s a picture that shows both my lifelines, my feeding tube and my central line:

Feeding Tube Awareness Week (2)

My feeding tube (the one in my belly…duh) was surgically placed right into my small intestine. It hurt, a lot. The surgeons all said it shouldn’t cause any post-operative pain, but I would like them to plant foreign objects in their abdomens, leave them there, and then get back to me on that. It was a good eight to ten weeks before I was completely pain free, but by that point in time I was well underway in my never-ending battle with granulation tissue, a battle that continues to this day. If you haven’t read my posts from last spring where I’m pretty sure I talk about granulation tissue a lot, it’s basically tissue the body produces to try and heal wounds. In most cases this is a good thing but in the case of having a feeding tube where you need that stoma to stay open, granulation tissue is bad. I have tons of pictures (seriously, I have so many) of my poor stoma overrun with granulation tissue and covered in ugly stains from trying to burn it off with silver nitrate, but don’t worry I won’t share those with you! You can look at these pictures instead!

Tubie on the go collage

Other than feeling some pressure from the balloon if the tube gets snagged, I don’t feel it inside me. I do, however, experience discomfort when I flush larger volumes of water. And if the water is really cold I can feel that, too! There are days when it is very painful and days when I forget it’s even there, and so far I can’t figure out a rhyme or reason for that. Here’s a random tidbit for you…oftentimes stomachs or intestines will try to digest feeding tubes. By this I mean that normal peristalsis is taking place inside the digestive tract and the internal parts of the tubes get pulled along, sucking the tube in tight against the skin. I like to think of it as a game of tug-of-war between my intestines and the outside world. Basically it’s just annoying and vaguely uncomfortable, though sometimes it’s quite painful.

Before I had gastroparesis and before I knew much of anything about feeding tubes, the truth is that I thought they were pretty icky. In my earlier days of gastroparesis when feeding tubes were something only the really severe cases required, I still thought that. And honestly? They’re not exactly glamorous, but having a tube? And using that tube in public? There’s nothing gross or icky about that! Someone tube feeding in public should be seen no differently than someone eating ‘normally’ in public. Flushing water through a tube should be seen no differently than someone taking a drink from a water bottle.

Feeding tubes are not something to be feared. Some people can’t walk and they need a wheelchair. Some people can’t see and they need glasses. Some people can’t eat and they need feeding tubes. It’s as simple as that.

Feeding tubes aren’t the magic solution for everyone, as mine certainly wasn’t for me, but they do keep people alive and they help people thrive. They allow babies to grow into children, they allow children to grow into adults, and they allow adults to keep living. They aren’t contagious or scary. They’re real. They’re just part of real life. And there shouldn’t be shame or embarrassment associated with anything that gives you have a chance at a life.

So Happy Feeding Tube Awareness Week! It’s all about awareness, so please, if you have any feeding tube questions whatsoever, ask away and I’d be happy to answer! And may all the tubies out there, past, present and future, bare your bellies with pride 🙂