Hypermesis is a

SJ Snelson - 9 Mar 16

Hypermesis is a beast of a bee-hatch.

It pretty much swallowed me, my life and my body whole mid Christmas Day.

I love Christmas and hyperemesis wanted to sabotage what the no alcohol, no camembert cheese board and no party energy hadn’t already stolen. I was not a happy elf.

Along with hyperemesis came smells. Lots of hit the back of my throat and make me gag (loudly at a dinner party) smells. But the worst smell was my own kitchen – I would wretch before my key was in the front door as the odours came to greet me.
I hated my house, I hated that it made me feel more sick – there was of course lots of sick. In fact mashed potato sick nearly killed me: I remember at the time thinking ‘how embarrassing if I die – cause of death suffocation by mashed potato’.

Work wasn’t an option as the sickness became a quad hourly thing – even getting to work wasn’t an option.

On my last attempt to get in I was sick in the middle of Birmingham city centre rush hour, with a nice commuter audience. From the foot well of Mr O’s car I hung out the door – Oh how I wanted the tarmac to swallow me. And then again on the immediate return journey in Asda carpark. This time as I sat myself back in my seat Mr O calmly told me I had a rash on my face. I looked in the mirror.

Rash on my face?! I looked like a flippin’ blueberry!! WTF?!
Mr O asked me and then told me to go to hospital – I said I would sleep on it as I was simply too tired to panic.
In the morning I was a full on blackcurrant – at least 2 shades darker than 8 hours ago. So I trotted off to the docs who were too busy to see me, so I paraded my face down at the local walk-in… And from there rushed to and through A&E. (I remember thinking oops Mr O was right I should have come last night).
But all was ok I had just burst each and every single blood vessel in my face and it should all go down eventually. EVENTUALLY it did fade (with the help of fake tan and make-up) and then it gradually disappeared except for this one patch on my neck which is a nice reminder of this attractive and blossoming time in my life.

And so my life became confined to my lounge, with a sick bucket, a kettle of water and a conservatory filled with Rice Krispies and milk.

My world had shrunk to four walls and with it I shrank dress sizes.

My mood swings were ridiculous. I was lonely, captive and had a total vacance of energy. I lost my independence and relied on Mr O and online supermarket deliveries to replenish my room stocks. I ventured finger- pinching-nose out of my lounge to the bathroom as little as possible.

My doctor was fantastic and made me feel a whole lot less wimp and more war hero than I imagined he could. He explained that we would try different meds out and that I should come back fortnightly. With that prescription he became a legend – up there with Florence Nightingale.

Thank the stars for the internet, the blogs and threads keeping me sane. Keeping me busy – I became a competition enthusiast – and won an item or ten.

I asked questions, the same questions, repeatedly. How long will this last? Will these pills ever work? When does sick pay stop? What remedies can I try? The answers terrified me and gave me hope. I tried everything.

Ginger didn’t work but trifle and Rice Krispies did.

The first set of tablets didn’t work but the second lot did.

I wore travel bands morning, noon and night – not even removing them to shower – I have no idea if they worked but didn’t care to find out.

I couldn’t drink still or warm water but could drink sips of sparkling.

I couldn’t eat warm food but could (with the help of tablets) stomach lettuce leaves, tomatoes and cheddar cheese.

Then one day I felt ok, and then a few days later I felt ok again and a week later every day I felt ok.

And then I felt supreme – I am the phoenix, I have risen from the fire.

Like I said hyperemesis is a beast of a bee-hatch but it doesn’t last forever. So hold tight Lady you can beat this – you are woman. You can hold your own (from your bed) – just keep sipping your sup, napping through the Kardashians, entering competitions, trying bits of what you fancy …
Keep your head high and take One Day at a Time.

SJ Snelson

I'm SJ. Living in Brum, in the middle land. I have 1 crazy bambina, 1 step-teenager, and 1 husband (who fluctuates between superman and Magneto - often depending on my mood). My family and friends are always my staples, my clan, my tribe – and Bambina my hero. Find me on insta @themamacave

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