Hay Happens and Hay's Happen

Today brought SOME real answers. After months of nausea, fullness, and that all-too-familiar pressure that builds the minute I start to eat, my EndoFlip finally gave us a clearer picture of what’s going on inside.

The good news first: my stomach, pancreas, duodenum, and small intestine all looked healthy. No ulcers. No inflammation. No structural disease. Everything looked beautifully normal which, in the world of GI mysteries, is actually something to celebrate.

But then came the key finding:
my pylorus, the tiny muscular valve at the base of the stomach that opens to let food pass into the small intestine, was tight. Really tight.

That one word explains so much. When this valve doesn’t relax as it should, food can’t move forward. It just sits there — like guests waiting at a door that won’t open. That’s why I feel full so fast, why nausea hits after a few bites, and why I get that woozy, “blood-sugar roller coaster” feeling as my body tries to process food that’s stuck in the wrong place.

To help, my doctor injected Botox into the pylorus to calm and relax the muscle. I wanted to ask him to do my face to so I could have my face tighten up vs. loosen up. HA! The hope is that this will allow the valve to open more freely, letting food move through at a normal pace again. If it works, it could mean a turning point; a real chance to retrain my body and begin nourishing again without fear or pain.

The best part? This isn’t structural damage. It’s “neuromuscular likely tied to vagal-nerve dysregulation.” In other words, the wiring between my brain, nerves, and stomach just needs to be gently re-tuned. That means healing is possible.

So for now, I’m taking it slow. Small meals. Gentle movement. Deep breaths. Gratitude for a doctor who kept looking, and for a God who never stopped leading us toward answers.

Maybe this is the beginning of things moving — literally and figuratively — in the right direction.

The Lord will guide you always; He will satisfy OUR (my) needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen OUR (my) frame.” — Isaiah 58:11

Even when my body feels stuck, I know He’s still moving. One step, one meal, one breath at a time.

Tatum went away for the first time to Jr. High YTH Camp with Scottsdale Bible Church (SBC), and oh my goodness…we missed her (well, I did… and the birds did too!). Cooper had his bone, so he was perfectly content, but the house just felt too quiet without her.

The camp sent plenty of updates, which helped so much…

She had the best time! She came home glowing..and SAD. New friendships! My heart is so grateful for the experiences she’s having and the people she’s meeting through this season. She walked in to a WE MISSED YOU extravaganza.

and in her room:

She asked me for about 15 hugs that night, and she didn’t want me to leave her room. I felt so grateful. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

This week, I took a tiny splinter out of Tatum’s foot. It was so small, yet it caused her so much pain.

It made me think of life….and even my own health journey. Sometimes it’s not the “big” battles that weigh us down the most, but the small, constant irritations: fatigue, discomfort, uncertainty, or even the daily frustrations that build up. A splinter might be tiny, but if left unchecked, it becomes consuming.

Perspective matters. Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:34 not to worry about tomorrow because each day has enough trouble of its own. He calls us to hand Him both the “splinters” and the BIG things. When I keep my eyes on Him, the small things stay small, and even the big things don’t feel so overwhelming because they’re no longer mine to carry alone!

In my health, in our home, in our lives; it’s a daily practice of surrender. Trusting that He knows the size of every challenge, and He equips us with the grace to handle each one.

Keep the small things small, and trust God with the big things.

The past few days, the storm rolled in with heavy gray skies, pounding rain…the kind that makes you want to stay curled up inside with a blanket. But not Tatum.

The second she spotted the rain splashing against the patio, she grabbed the umbrella, pulled on her tall boots, and was ready to go.

At first, she stood by the door with Coopy faithfully at her side, both of them staring out like two explorers debating their next adventure. With a quick grin back at me, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the storm.

The umbrella didn’t last long! It bent and flipped in the strong wind, finally giving up altogether. But that didn’t stop her. Boots sloshing through the puddles, hair plastered to her face, she danced in the middle of the downpour. Coopy and I watched from the window, smiling as she splashed with complete joy and freedom.

There’s something magical about moments like that. Kids don’t think about the mess or the inconvenience! NOPE…they just embrace the moment for what it is. Watching Tatum reminded me that sometimes, you just have to let go, step out into the storm, and dance. (I didn’t of course, but I thought about it..that counts, right?)

The broken umbrella might not have survived the day, but the memory of her laughter in the rain is something I’ll hold onto forever.

Lately, my body has been struggling in ways I never thought possible. Eating : something so simple and necessary: has become one of my biggest challenges. People take the most simplest things for granted. (or wish they could eat less) Severe bloating, delayed emptying, early satiety (feeling full too quickly), regurgitation, and unrelenting GI pressure have made it nearly impossible to get enough calories.

The official word for this is “gastroparesis” 

a condition where the stomach empties far too slowly, almost like it’s paralyzed. I’m in the early stages, but it has been worsening over the last month. At one point, I had worked so hard to gain up to 105 pounds, which felt like such a victory. But the cost was daily vomiting. Now, eating has become even more difficult. Some days I barely reach 700 calories, and the fallout has been brutal: relentless fatigue, weakness, and weight loss.

The Bigger Picture

Through months of testing and conversations with my doctors, we’re uncovering the deeper story behind what’s going on.

• This didn’t start with EoE. My eosinophilic esophagitis is more of a secondary finding not the root cause.
• The real beginning may have been years ago, when I had to restrict my diet due to GI symptoms. That long-term under-eating left me with chronically low insulin levels. Today, I wear a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) to track my blood sugar because I was developing features of Type 1 diabetes. (One of the diagrams I’ve shared shows how GLP-1 and insulin tie into this picture.)

And, that my food will sit in stomach all day, and then I’ll take a Reglan with my dinner and motility will start. My BS will show it is digesting. Weird!! and Crazy! …interesting too. (and a relief)

• Over time, my small intestine likely developed partial blockages and reduced motility, which explains that “stuck” sensation? …food just won’t move through as it should.
• Mycotoxin exposure and immune activation piled on top of all this, adding layers of inflammation, fatigue, and weakness. Thankfully, that piece has mostly resolved.

So, while EoE is still present, it’s not the core problem. The true drivers are:

1. Long-term malnutrition from food restriction,
2. Motility breakdown, and
3. (Maybe? the toxic load I’ve carried along the way.

FLIPPING THE SCRIPT!!

On October 6th, I’m scheduled for an endoscopy with EndoFLIP  a diagnostic test I’m actually excited about.

Here’s how it works:

1. Catheter placement – A thin catheter with a balloon at the tip is placed into the esophagus and stomach.
2. Controlled balloon filling – The balloon inflates in a very controlled way, while sensors inside measure what’s happening.
3. Recording and evaluation – The device captures real-time data on motility, pressure, and distensibility (how well the tissue stretches).

This will help my doctors see if my symptoms are being driven more by:

• a mechanical blockage (something physically obstructing flow),
• motility failure (muscles and nerves not working properly),
• or both.

It’s an incredibly important step, because the results will guide treatment moving forward.

Where I Am Right Now

At the moment, my days look very different than they used to. My focus is simply on stabilizing:

• Eating whatever and whenever I can tolerate ( the goal is to rebuild calories, not chase perfection).
• Resting more than I ever have (and learning to accept that). (EEK!..so hard)
• Using enzymes and motility support only when necessary.
• Working closely with one of my doctors, who actually visits me at home every Saturday.

The ultimate goal? Regain weight and strength. For now, my target is to get back to 105 lbs (and more!) and stay there without constant setbacks.

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I’ve come to realize that healing isn’t just about chasing one diagnosis; it’s about piecing together a complicated puzzle of causes, effects, and hidden layers. Gastroparesis may be one of the toughest chapters yet, but with each test and treatment, we’re uncovering more of the truth.

And truth, I’ve learned, is the another step toward healing. thank you Jesus for being WITH ME always. Thank you, Doug for BEING MY ROCK. Thank you, Tatum for being my joy daily (and my rock as well). I love you all to pieces.

She had all her practice clothes laid out. Is she not excited!!??
First game: SATURDAY! 7:30 AM. YEEKS!

Throw in a little orange and you have………

orange and black!!! HEEHEE