Was That You, Drunkie?

I am going to make this extremely short because Carson has a doctor’s appointment this morning; he has a check-up for his leg. 

After I had Carson and Dylan I began to notice that when I ate meat or especially and bread and meat together, it would get stuck in my throat.  I can breath, but it looks like I am choking and it’s very painful and I do sort of freak out.  The reason that it’s scary is that if I drink water to get it to go down, the water piles on top of the food and then I throw up.  I asked my uncle (a doctor) about this and he said that from having two sets of twins, the acid reflux injured my esophagus.  A muscle has developed at the bottom of my esophagus and it completely closes and shuts off access to my stomach, or wherever your food goes before your stomach.  I am not eloquent when I speak medically.

I have never talked about this on my blog because it sucks and it doesn’t happen often.  I can still eat meat and bread with meat, but I have to be very careful and chew a lot.  I have always said that I could never be bulimic because I think throwing up is like THE worst thing ever.  (Just one reason I would never be bulimic.)  The reason that I am telling you about it is because my worst fear came true….it happened at a restaurant.  Since it’s a funny story and I am known to laugh and poke fun at myself, I have to tell it.

Don’s Christmas party was in December; I posted pictures from the night.  It took place at a Brazilian Steak House.  First of all, the floors were like a skating rink and I had new shoes on.  Most of the girls were sliding all over the place, holding on to one another so they would not fall in their heels.  I was clinging to Melissa (works with Don) and she was calling me her “bitch” because I looked like her girlfriend.  Ha ha.  She’s hilarious.

Anyway, everyone was sitting down, food looked delicious, and I cut into my first piece of delicious Filet Mignon….it got stuck.  The very first piece!  I started sweating, I wiggled around trying to get it to go down, and finally, I started frantically tapping Don.  Long story short, he had to walk me to the bathroom twice so I could throw up the one stupid piece of meat.  Remember, I was hanging on him trying not to fall on the ice-floors. 

Ok, so here’s why I am writing about this….here’s the funny part.  I ran into a guy that I knew from yoga; he was sitting at a table near our room.  He was with his girlfriend and another couple.  I said hello at the beginning of the night.  When I kept going back and forth to the bathroom, he saw me and was looking at me curiously.  I was trying to avoid looking at him.

I saw him at yoga on Friday.  We started talking about the restaurant and he said “Man, you were wasted!  You couldn’t even walk!  We were all laughing at you, in a friendly way.”  He was still laughing.  He said “You’re so small; I’ll bet you can’t drink much!”  I laughed and said “I wasn’t drunk!  I don’t even drink!”  I told him the real story.  I don’t know why I did.  I honestly think that it would have been better to be known as “The Drunk Girl at the Christmas Party” rather than “One Who Quietly Barfs Meat at a Brazilian Steakhouse”….but anyway, I felt inclined to tell him the truth.  At the end of the conversation, he said “The cool thing about having two sets of twins is that you can do whatever you want and no one can say anything, in my opinion.” SCORE!  Ok, no.  Barfing at restaurants doesn't count as a perk.

Here's the Word of the Day:

neoterism \nee-OT-uh-riz-uhm\, noun:
1. An innovation in language, as a new word, term, or expression.
2. The use of new words, terms, or expressions.