My story

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In April 2015 I was on a placement on a gastro ward. I was in my first year of university studying nursing. I decided to move to Liverpool to study as I'm originally from Dublin in Ireland. It was a big decision leaving my friends and family but I will never regret it because I built a life for myself in Liverpool and made the most amazing friends anyone could ever ask for. After three days of my gastro placement I began to start vomiting. I was vomiting constantly up to twenty times an hour. I had the worst pain in my chest and stomach. A few days past I decided to go to hospital as I felt severely dehydrated. I attended a and e three times before I was finally admitted. This was a hard time for me as a lot of my friends were at home for Easter. I ended up in hospital for two weeks. I had to undergo many tests but felt better and was discharged with no diagnosis. Months passed and I was finding it hard to eat big portions. I was eating a lot less but I did not take any notice of it.  I was at home for summer and in August 2015 I became extremely ill. I was constantly being sick and in unbearable pain. A few days passed and my mam and dad became very worried. I spent these days crying, screaming and did not know what to do. I spent a lot of time in the shower as it relaxed me. My parents thought something bad had happened to me. The first two times I attended a and e in Dublin I was placed on an IV drip and given anti sickness drugs that did not help. I pleaded for help off them but they did not acknowledge me. On my third admission the doctor suggested to my parents that I was anorexic and I was sent to see a psychologist. This really affected me deeply. I felt like I was crazy. I knew in myself there was something wrong and no one would listen. I felt isolated and alone. I was put on anti-depressants on this visit and was only kept for a few hours and discharged again. The vomiting and pain continued and there was a lot of conflict in my house. Although I knew it was not my parents fault; no one knew what was going on, I knew they thought that the diagnosis was true. A few days later things had got so bad I was so weak I found it difficult to even dress myself. The pain was becoming worse and I could not move screaming for help. An ambulance was  called and this time I was admitted to hospital for five days. During this time I was given a camera test where a hytis hernia was found. I was discharged out of hospital the same day feeling a little better. My flights where booked to come back to Liverpool with my mam and brother were coming with me. The morning of the flight I was feeling extremely unwell. We arrived at Liverpool and once again things took a turn for the worse. I ended up in a and e again, this time I was kept in for two weeks. I once again went through more tests; some more worse than the others. At this point i believed I couldn't cope with this anymore. Even though I knew it was selfish, all I could think of was ending my life, to be rid of the pain. I was in a place I had never been before, a place I believed to be hell. The pain never left me, it was all day, everyday, I couldn't keep anything down not even a drop of water. I was frustrated and loosing weight so fast. After two weeks I was discharged and went back to my flat where I continued to vomit. I spent most of my time in the shower again. I went to a and e again a week later and to no surprise was admitted again. This time I was in for six weeks. My mam stayed with me all the time and had multiple visits from my dad, even my aunty and brother visited me. Whilst this lifted my spirits, I was still unable to keep positive, I just wanted it to stop.  I was seeing a specialist gastro team and receiving a lot of help with my mental health and was placed onto a higher dose of the anti-depressants. I was also on diazepam to relax me during my time in hospital. I thought the vomiting was never going to end; I truly wanted it all to end. I made myself believe it was all in my head but I didn't know how I was supposed to stop it. I had to take a year out of my nursing studies which I was devastated about. I wondered what I would do if I never went back because all I ever wanted to be is a nurse. I was at rock bottom. I don't think I can put in words how I felt. Two weeks after my admission I was given a gastro emptying test. This means they use an X-ray to watch food being digested. It was then discovered that I have gastro paresis. Finally I got a diagnosis. It is an incurable chronic illness which I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I ended up with a ng tube which made me extremely sick. I then got an nj tube inserted which was the only way I could feed for a few weeks. The vomiting continued for awhile and I still felt was worthless. What was the point in life? I had gone from being a healthy girl who was happy to this; I viewed myself as being a burden on everyone, I hated the idea of what they viewed me as and I wanted to end it all, for this suffering to be over. At this point I was down to six and a half stone and could barely fit in adults clothes; no one could believe it was me. I was discharged after the six weeks feeling a lot better. I still had the tube inserted and was feeling very conscious of people staring at me. Although I was happy to be out, I couldn't fit back into my old life, so much had changed, I had changed. I became extremely self conscious; I was described as being outgoing and adventurous before this happened, now I would be described as being shy and very nervous about social settings. I was well for awhile until the day before Christmas.  I became sick again when I was at home and was admitted to a and e for fluids again. Thank god this only lasted for two days. I was well for a few months. Everything was looking up, I had been given the opportunity to redo my second year of university, a job as a health care assistant and I felt like I was on top of my illness. Then I got sick again in April of this year, and was in and out of hospital for another four weeks. My mam came over to me again, for this I owe her so much. It was another tough time. I was put on a feeding tube again. Having the tube put back in knocked my confidence even more and delayed my job process. I felt like that an invisible force was working against me, the moment my life was back on track, it knocked me sideways, making everything wrong that I had worked so hard on to make good. I was defeated, I couldn't see anyway for me to survive this, I felt like I wasn't going to comeback at  all, I had never wanted my life to end as much as did then. Again I was sent to the mental health team which helped me through that difficult period. It's been a few weeks and now I'm feeling a lot better. Sometimes I find it hard to bring myself to get out of bed but I drag myself to. I have recently been put on relaxers for my anxiety because I was having extreme panic attacks which helped me. I am constantly being told that I do not look sick and that I bring this on myself. I don't, and will do everything I can to avoid this happening again, I pray each morning that today will not be the day it comes back. Having gastroparesis is so far the worst thing that has ever happened to me and changed me completely. I am not who I was. One day I hope I can say that this illness has shaped me in a better way, but for now I'm still dealing with the aftermath of it and would like to thank all my friends and family who showed their support. The only good thing I can say that came from this is the strong friends and family I have by my side. I would not have been able to get through this without them, excuse the cliche.