Heavier box = more TPN = No more Food
As my head completed this mental equation my stomach tied up in knots. I made the trek back to my room, all the while dreading what I was going to find when I opened the box.
Before opening the box, I shoved a brownie in my mouth. I was not going to go on bowel rest without one last hurrah. Needless to say, I was right, the box had 7 bags of TPN in it, so either it was a mistake or I was no longer allowed to eat.
I sat there looking at the box. I hate not being able to eat. It's terrible and you don't realize how much time people spend eating until you aren't allowed to eat anymore. I knew I should be upset. I knew I should be devastated that I was no longer allowed to eat for the time being, but instead I felt nothing.
I called my nutritionist to confirm the change and then called my mom to tell her about the TPN. Still I felt nothing. I logically connected the pieces in my head, justifiying the benefits of doing TPN.
Now that I've connected the pieces in my head, I just have to readjust to not being able to eat again. I feel bad enough that most of the time it isn't too hard, but I'm also on prednisone, which means I start to super crave food. Its a rough life and isn't going to be easy, but I really don't have much choice right now. So instead I keep on keeping on, just this time without food, in my not so normal life