2010 to 2011 was a huge transition period for me. I was adjusting to moving 1,500 miles away from my family after graduating from college. I was adjusting to life out of college and working full-time. I was adjusting to the life of a young adult with thousands of dollars of student loan debt. My mother became very ill in November of 2010. After complications from what was supposed to be a routine procedure her esophagus was torn — a condition that has a high mortality rate.
My family was faced with the thought of my mother’s death, and as it turns out, she was two days away from having a stroke. In an effort to repair her esophagus she was restricted to a liquid diet. She went through three emergency surgeries during November and December. When I went home for Christmas, my mother was in the hospital. She was gaunt, pale and hooked up to tubes – not exactly how anyone wants to see the person who raised them with such caring hands and ultimate patience. Preparing Christmas dinner was my task since my mother was restricted to smoothies. Our usual Swedish dinner was not the same without my mother’s hard work and over the dinner table a feeling of sadness loomed. I remember at the end of the day my mother saying, with tears in her eyes, “I’m just happy to be home for Christmas.” We were all tearful and silent. I left a couple of days later feeling torn about going back to my life in Arizona when the person who raised me was so ill. Like the unselfish mother she is, though, she told me that she wanted to me to get back to my life.
Mother improved and was eventually able to eat food again. Then in April 2011 she found out that once again her esophagus was torn. I flew back to Kansas to be with her while she went through two more surgeries — one to remove the source of the infection and the other to put a gastric feeding tube (g tube) into her intestines. When my mother came home from the hospital the kitchen was filled with medical supplies: syringes, antibiotics, liquid food, gauze, alcohol wipes. At 5’8″ my mother’s weight dropped to about 125 pounds. I stayed for two weeks to help keep the house clean, to help her get around the house and most of all for emotional support. Her abs were very sore from being cut open, and she had very low energy. Every night when she went to bed I wondered if she would wake up in the morning. I watched her cry out of frustration from trying to inject liquid food into her feeding tube. I felt like I owed her so much more than I could give.
After two weeks in Kansas with my family I flew back to Arizona. My mother remained on the feeding tube for two more months. Finally, in June, after one final surgery and more tests, her esophagus proved to be healed. She went over two months without orally consuming food or water and was advanced to a normal diet at the end of June.
My mother has found that now that she is able to eat again she has gained weight back rapidly. While this is somewhat difficult for her as she had her own struggles with an eating disorder at a young age, she and I both agree that we are grateful for the fact that she is able to eat. I never in my wildest dreams realized that I took for granted the ability to eat. From this experience I have gained a new appreciation for food. Sixteen years of my life was dedicated to ballet, and I had a terrible relationship with food. Even though I considered myself “recovered,” I realized from this experience that I indeed was not. I would exercise compulsively to try to burn off what I ate. I would skip nutritious meals to eat a few extra cookies.
Now I practice compassion for my body and my mind. I am conscious and grateful for everything that goes into my body. I am grateful for every sip of water because it is my connection to the earth and keeps my cells alive. I am mindful that every bite I take nourishes my body. Even though my mother hated the liquid food and saline solution so much, I remain in a place of gratitude because it helped keep her alive. Not a day goes by that I don’t thank my higher power for my sound mind to be able to know my body and what it needs. I thank my higher power for being able to give my body what it needs so I can fuel my runs and yoga classes. Most of all, I thank my higher power, beyond words I can even express, that my mother’s health continues to improve with each day that passes, with every sip of water and with every bite of food.
–Britta
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