It has been a tough couple of days with a lot of vomitting, reflux, gaviscon, vomitting, dehydration etc.
I cracked last night and emailed the Healthier Weight Centres to see if they could do an emergency un fill. It got complicated when I realised it would be £150 for the band adjustment, *plus* £250 for an xray. No could do.
And I am not sure I wanted someone fiddling around with my band without an xray first. But in the end I agreed to go for the adjustment; £150 didn't seem a lot to pay for what I hoped would be instant pain relief.
Sigh - the best laid plans of mice and men etc. I set off and walked the half hour to the train station; only to find that due to an incident on the line there were no trains into London. When I found myself still on the platform an hour later, it was plain I wouldn't make it to the hospital before the end of clinic time, so I gave up and walked all the way home again.
Absolutely exhausted with the walking, not sure if it is the fallout from my recent infection.
So I survived another day with no un fill. Only eight days till I see Chris de Bruyne. I hope I make it.
Not able to eat or drink a lot; well not that a lot stays down. Which on the bright side of things meant that this morning I was 168.9lbs. The lowest I've been in a long time.
There is definitely a (significant) part of my mind that tells me that it doesn't matter what I suffer, if I am losing weight it is worth it. I know in my head that that is rubbish; but in my heart I am well and truely convinced of the "no pain no gain" theory.
Except when the pain gets so bad I am nearly crying. Then in the middle of the night I'd do anything for a defill of my band and the ability to relax my stomach muscles.
But in the middle of the night there isn't much I can do. But hey, I've lost a pound or so - not a lot, but I have got to keep going. . .