Meet Gabby
Gabby became an LPN at 19, made the Nurses Honor Society, and was nominated by her patients for two different awards. Caring for people has always been a big part of who she is.
Today, Gabby is sharing her experience living with severe gastroparesis and global gastrointestinal dysmotility. The conditions have changed parts of her life she never expected, from friendships to the simple act of enjoying a meal.
For Off the Record, Gabby opened up about the realities people don’t always see, the support that has carried her through, and what it means to keep choosing moments of joy even when there may be a price to pay afterward.
Keep reading to hear Gabby’s story in her own words.
The Loneliness I Never Expected
For Gabby, some of the biggest changes have happened outside of her physical symptoms. As hospital stays became more frequent, she also began to notice her relationships changing.
One thing I never expected was how lonely it could be. The more I got admitted to the hospital, the fewer people reached out.
I don’t know if they didn’t know what to say, if they were uncomfortable with how sick I got, if the tubes made them uncomfortable, or if they just slowly moved on with their lives.
Losing friendships because of a chronic illness wasn’t something I ever saw coming, and I think that’s one of the hardest parts.
What a Difficult Day With Severe Gastroparesis Really Looks Like
Gastroparesis can look very different from person to person. For Gabby, a difficult day can take everything she has just to help her body recover.
Most difficult days start with me waking up nauseous and throwing up whatever bite of food I had the day before.
My gastroparesis is considered very severe, and because I have global gastrointestinal dysmotility, not just gastroparesis, I’ll throw up for hours until I’m dehydrated, in pain, and completely exhausted.
It takes everything in me to set up my IV fluids and everything else I need to help my body recover when I feel that sick. I’ve thrown up so much that it’s caused critically low electrolyte levels before.
Even when there’s nothing left to throw up, I’ll keep dry heaving, and sometimes I can’t even swallow my own saliva. By the end of it, I just feel like a shell of a person.
The People I Don’t Have to Explain It To
As some relationships changed, others became an important source of support, especially the people who understood what she was going through without needing an explanation.
Just the other day my boyfriend surprised me with flowers for no reason and wrote me a note telling me he was proud of me and sorry I was struggling so much. It meant more than he probably realizes.
His friends have also become some of my biggest supporters and always look out for me.
I recently went through a really difficult hospitalization, and having friends with the same diagnoses made such a difference. They understood what I was feeling without me having to explain it.
Being able to heal alongside people who truly get it was so special.
Enjoying Life, Then Paying for It Later
Even the better days can come with a calculation: enjoy the moment now, knowing her body may feel the effects afterward.
I’m usually a pretty open person, so this one was hard. But I don’t think people realize how hard it is to find the balance between enjoying life and paying for it later.
If I’m not throwing up and I’m only dealing with nausea or pain, it’s so tempting to push myself because I finally feel a little more normal. Then I end up really sick afterward.
I also genuinely love food. I miss being able to eat until I’m satisfied or have a little bit of everything. My body might only tolerate a couple bites, but my brain still wants the whole meal.
Sometimes when I feel my best, usually in the early afternoon, I want to make the most of it even though I know I may feel much worse later.
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