The Accidental Bulimic

So last week, I went out of town, and Sunday morning I woke up with a sweet bout of chest pain. How many people die of a heart attack at 30? I found myself asking. I passed it off as indigestion, (which is probably why I will end up dying of a heart attack) and figured I would eat a little bit lighter that day.

Monday, said chest pain was still there. It was uncomfortable, and on my way to the airport, I felt a little barfy. I hate flying, so needless to say I always feel a bit barfy when entering an airport and being on a plane, gripping that pack of cigarettes telling myself every time a patch of turbulence hits that I will be damned if I don't at least smoke once on a plane if we die. Probably how I will end up getting arrested on a plane.

Tuesday, I had the day off, and I didn't really eat all day. I went to my mom's and eat a smorgasbord of chips and popcorn all within my lazy arm's reach. Considering that wast he first thing I had eaten that day, it felt weird how full I was. On the way into my house I started slowly throwing it up. This is the kind of vomit, for the sake of making me sound adorable when I puke, that I will call kitty pukes. It only comes up a few tablespoons at a time and I don't make that horrible retching sound. It's like...."Bleh! Oh pardon me!" as I wipe my face.

Wednesday and Thursday it continued. I felt so full every time food would touch my lips and the chest pain was just chillin' there. Well, I wasn't dead yet, so it must not be my heart attack time. Friday I woke up telling myself if I felt the same way, I would go to Instacare. I felt the same way. But I wanted to go shopppping!!!! On my way out to go shopping, rationale kicked in and I went to the stupid Doctor.

"What are we seeing you for today?" the nice lady at the counter asked. "Well, since last Sunday, my chest has been hurting and I have been vomiting up all my food" I said politely and smiling.

She didn't even bother taking any of my stuff. Instead she screamed to a nurse, "WE HAVE SOMEONE HERE WITH CHEST PAIN! GET HER IN THE BACK NOWW!!" I was petrified. Note to self: If I ever want to get into Instacare without waiting again, I will just say chest pain. And then ask them to check on my ear infection/cold/flu whatever secondly. All my blood pressures came out fine. They made me do an EKG and an X-Ray of my chest while I was in there. Well, had I known I was going to be splayed out topless on a sterile metal table with lights and stickers all over me that day, I may have done some crunches. I felt like I was in the middle of an alien abduction.

As I figured, that stuff all came out fine. The doctor came in and told me I was experiencing esophageal spasms. Beautiful. Just beautiful. My weird shoddy genes kick in again. She explained to me that I needed an endoscopy sooner than later so that they could stretch out my esophagus so that I may start enjoying life again. She told me to go on an all liquid diet. I shook my head yes and smiled.

I am not going on an all liquid diet. The only way you could get me to do that is if you broke my jaw.

My mom asked if bourbon or scotch counted. I want to thank her for thinking I am that classy when I drink.

So going on day 9 now, I am still doing kitty pukes every time I eat. It's been a wonderful experience, having a conversation with someone and my mouth fills up. I have to hold my finger up as in "hold please!" turn around and spit into a garbage can, toilet, or on the ground. The other day at work was a crowning achievement when I quietly tried to not call attention to myself by vomiting pure coffee into a napkin. It all came spraying out the sides.

On the upside, this whole time, I thought I was this withery going to die at any moment girl, because for the past few years, I have been having heart palpitations. At times they are stronger than others, and I have just accepting my doom as I have been to doctors, and they merely told me to do yoga, relax and not stress so much. After looking into esophageal spasms, turns out it was not the old ticker after all! It was my esophagus, spasming out, there to remind me how much it loves me. Also if I eat the right kind of food, ie cake or candy, at least it comes out tasting the same?

I am making a doctor's appointment tomorrow by the way, I just keep forgetting to bring the papers with me. But for now, you can just whisper quietly to your friends when we hang out and I have to run away for a second, "That's my friend Dominique, she's an accidental bulimic."