When you don’t know what to do, you write.

That’s my problem right now.

The last seven days of my life have been a bit “crummy,” for lack of a better term. I have felt ill for the past few weeks, but I thought I had been fighting off some type of bug. I’ve received treatment for sinus infections, colds, and the flu this winter, but there was always something else nagging at me that I couldn’t put my finger on, that I knew was probably nothing serious.

Turns out I was wrong.

Stress gets to you in more ways than one. People sometimes say stress eats at you until you feel sick. I have felt worn out from stress, but I have never felt physically sick more than just tired and overwhelmed. Anxiety has done that to me.

I can now say I have become sick because of my stress. I let stress get the best of me. I have a peptic ulcer, and the doctors don’t think it’s caused by some type of bacteria. I spent most of my day Thursday in the emergency room with my Mom while I had CT scans and ultrasounds to check every internal organ God gave me. The pain that brought me in was abdominal in nature, but I was having trouble eating, too.

For the 48 hours leading up to my ER visit, I had been steadily dieting on ginger ale, crackers, and applesauce. Who knew those (minus the ginger ale) would become staples of my diet for who knows how long? After finding out my results at the hospital, I found myself examining the life of someone destined to eat a lot of bland food for the foreseeable future.

My family doctor has been helping me manage my stress for quite sometime, and I have been handling it fairly well, but work along with other factors have been getting to me more than usual lately. I’m still trying to understand what all I need to change to get over this.

So, for now, that’s all I’ve got to say. I need to get back to thinking about eating small meals with little flavor and drinking lots of water.

P.S. I tried vegan cheese yesterday. To quote Nancy Regan, “just say no.”


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