Polly had an appointment with her orthopedic doctor today. Major surgery is in the future for her — when is yet to be determined. Afterward, we drove to Archbold to eat lunch. We planned to eat at Samuel Mancinos, but the restaurant is closed on Mondays. Instead, we ate at a Mexican restaurant. I ordered a #18 — a taco, burrito, and rice and beans. I took three bites of the taco and some of the beans and rice before my ever-present nausea turned into feeling like I needed to vomit. I took some Zofran to lessen the need to vomit, sparing me the indignity of throwing up in a public restroom. Our server came to collect our plates. When she saw most of my food went uneaten, she asked, “You didn’t like the food?” I explained why I couldn’t eat my food. She genuinely felt sorry for me, taking my meal off our bill.
This is my life with gastroparesis — an incurable stomach disease. Every day, every week, with no respite in sight. In two weeks, I will have an endoscopy and colonoscopy. After that, I plan to have a gastric peroral endoscopic myotomy. This will hopefully reduce my symptoms. It is NOT a cure.
I have had numerous tests in recent weeks. A stool sample revealed I have an uncommon disease called exocrine pancreatic insufficiency. My pancreas — for an unknown reason — doesn’t make enough digestive enzymes. As a result, my body can’t properly digest food and absorb nutrients. This may be why I am anemic and have low B12, potassium, Vitamin D, and testosterone. I will likely have to go through pancreatic enzyme replacement therapy with expensive drugs.
Throw in fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, and degenerative spine disease, and I am in a world of hurt. My life is dominated by managing my health and lessening symptoms. My life has been reduced to striving to live another day. Joys that I once took for granted are gone. Eating is one of those joys, and not being able to enjoy food is so depressing I wonder why I keep trying.
As you may have noticed, my writing production has dropped dramatically. My life has pretty much come to a standstill. I am trying, but readers should no longer expect me to generate as much content. I cannot do so, and it seems evident, at least to me, that this is my new normal. Readers should expect less content from me, and if you notice my writing pace has picked up, don’t assume I am “better.” I am not, and I fear my best day is today, with more suffering and pain in my future.
I am 90 days behind on answering emails and social media messages. There’s nothing I can do about this. I will answer them when I can, and, quite frankly, some of them will go unanswered. I have had thoughts about hanging up my blogging spurs, but I enjoy writing, so I can’t bring myself to throw in the towel. All I know to do is manage my symptoms, rest, and do what I can.
Please don’t offer me medical advice. I am seeing competent doctors, to whom I trust my life. They are the experts, and unless given reason to believe otherwise, I trust them. I appreciate your friendship and support, but sending me links to articles and blog posts or questioning my diet, is not helpful. I appreciate your understanding.
Bruce Gerencser, 66, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 45 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.
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I am so sorry, Bruce. I had hoped getting edibles would relieve more of your pain. I’m also sorry to hear about Polly. Joint replacement? Anyway, wishing you both the best!
I’m so sorry Bruce. I know writing gives you great joy. I’ve always considered the blog a gift rather than an expectation.
Sorry to hear this 😢💔.
Damn, Bruce. Sending lots of love your way 💗
One of the few good things about being a preachers kid is that I learned, at a very young age, that people just need to stop with medical advice. I remember people giving advice to very ill people, in a hospital, and I would think wtf is wrong with people who think they know more than a doctor.
Bruce, your writing is fabulous and I always enjoy it. I check you blog daily, sometimes multiple times (but not in a stalker way…unless it involves Santa…) to see new posts or comments. If there is no new post then I assume you have you have other things going on, and check the next day.
So in my case, regardless of how often you post, you are stuck with me. 😈😈
I’m really sorry you’re feeling so lousy. I hope the medical treatments are able to bring you some relief.
Sorry to hear this Bruce: life can be a bitch and I’m amazed you are actually able to manage what you do. As you know, I had colon cancer a few years ago which was terrifying, but I was into hospital within a couple of weeks of the diagnosis, had a few inches of bowel removed, and was out in three or four days. End of story. I can only offer my best wishes that maybe things aren’t so bad as you fear, but if you can’t write don’t worry about it. Though we all enjoy what you are able to write!
I’m so sorry to read this, Bruce. You will be in my thoughts. And, by the way, I enjoy your writing. I have felt inward pain much of my life and struggled with anxiety and depression. I’ve tried two medications along the way, one faded out, and the other had a terrible side effect. So I quit, even though I maybe should have given another a try. I think physical pain and nausea would be worse. I have often had the thought of giving up writing, but that’s what I do, even though it has been confined to a blog. You, Bruce, make people think, which unfortunately doesn’t seem common nowadays. Best wishes for some health breakthrough for you in the near future. And for your wife as well, that the upcoming operation would go well.
Sorry to hear this, Bruce. Thank you for sharing all that you have shared on this blog. It has helped many of us in many ways. Do take care of yourself, and don’t feel obligated to write. But know that there are a lot of us who love to hear what you have to say.
Bruce, I wish I could do something to ease your and Polly’s pain. You have suffered, and given, so much!
All of your regulars here understand. We appreciate you probably more than you’ll ever know. You and Polly have shared honestly about your journey. Your willingness to do so is brave. I have missed my blog, though I knew I just didn’t have the well-being to continue. I do have the well-being to check in with your blog. It’s a daily habit. It’s a tradition. 🙂 Love to you and Polly.
There aren’t adequate words to convey how sorry I am you’re going through this and how much I wish we coukd make it better for you. I figured as much. We all appreciate your sharing with us. If it’s a lot, a little, or nothing at all going forward, you’ve given us the gift of hundreds of posts and stories. We ❤️ you from where you are and where we are.
Bruce, my best to you and Polly, and good luck and good outcomes on all your medical treatments and therapies. ☘️☘️☘️
I just want to say thank you for all you have done. You and Polly need to take care of yourselves. I think almost every reader of your blog realizes that.
Take care Bruce. I hope you and Polly will feel much better soon. Thank you for helping me to better understand the Christian Fundamentalist and Conservative Evangelical communities in the United States. As it turned out, they are worse than I had ever dared to imagine.
I hope you are feeling better, Bruce.
Bruce, I’m curious if you’ve ever perused clinicaltrials.gov
When I’m feeling hopeless I search for my chronic illnesses and see if I’m a candidate for any new treatments. Even if whatever they’re testing doesn’t work, it’s another step towards finding “a cure”. Even if I’m not a candidate it’s interesting to see what’s being tested.
I wish I could offer you and yours more besides good wishes.
Bruce, One of life’s greatest assaults on our happiness is bad health. It is also a tragedy that you will not be writing as much. You have a talent for it and talented people are of great benefit to those they touch with it.
Well Bruce, even when life gets hard to tolerate, we as atheists know it’s it’s all we ever had. If our reasoning is correct, we hang on as long as we can because every day is a new reveal “what’s next” IN this life as opposed to “what’s next” AFTER this life. The idea of an afterlife gains appeal as my time gets short. It’s man’s resistance to acknowledging mortality I guess. I wish you and Polly good luck with the medical stuff. Hang in there and let’s see what happens next. Agnostics only know for sure we can’t be sure.
🤗🤗🤗 my thoughts are with you!
We love you both Bruce and are with you and Polly in spirit every day. When you feel like writing, we welcome your words. When you don’t we wish you rest and comfort. I hope your doctors’ treatment plans can bring you relief. Please keep us posted on your and Polly’s situations.