Drinking myself into a soup stupor {only you, debra, only you}

The following is an excerpt of an eMail I wrote to my friend this morning, cuz if she will laugh aloud upon reading and then snicker from time to time upon recall.  Cuz that's the kinda friend she is, college friends make wonderful friends for all time, if you cultivate the friendship just right.  {{THANKS FOR BEING THAT FRIEND, Christi!!}}

OMG,  I drank myself into a stupor last night because apparently i CAN'T HANDLE MY SOUP.  Ok, I don't know if you've seen the differences in various ways that a stomach pouch can be created, but my surgeon connected the bottom of my truncated stomach to the side of my jejunum, which is an end to side anastomosis {connection}.  With a gastric sleeve, you've still your pyloric valve at the end of you stomach that controls the amount of the contents of your stomach that flow into your intestines {duodenum at that point, that's the first part of your small intestine}.  So with mine, I have no regulation between my tum and my jejunum {the second part of the small intestine}.  Which means that liquid just flows right thru doesn't get all hung up in this new lil tummy.  Which is great on one hand, it means I stay nice and hydrated as long as I drink my water.  It takes some getting used to on the other, because when it comes to water and similar fluids of that consistency, you don't feel full in the upper anastomosis, which is your brand new pouch.

So that means that about half an hour later, when the soup hit my large intestine, a wave of sleepiness overtook me and so I laid down, not thinking about how that would probably cause said fluid, now mixed with bile and other stomach acids from the remainder of my stomach that is now connected to my second/lower anastomosis just before my large intestine, to perhaps slosh around and backlog into the small intestine a bit cuz my body CAN'T HANDLE THE CONFUSION of what the what is going on here?!?!

Which is so not a pleasant feeling and also meant that like a sleepy doll, when you lay me down,  my eyes go shut and that signifies I am now sleeping.  Or at least in a very groggy state.  As in, better be in bed when you take the dose of nyquil groggy state.  So I staggered to bed, muttering, "see you tomorrow, AquaMan."  Followed with, "stupid stupid stupid"  followed by "soup stupor".  My bed is a long way from the couch.  My toilet is exactly 12 Steps from my bed, as I verified a multitude of times last night because peeing is my body's favorite way to rid myself of any liquid toxins that make it to my large intestines and I was mildly hallucinating about Jason Momoa arising from my bowl of soup with a giant spoon instead of his trident, glaring at me, and proclaiming, "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE SOUP."

Well, it WAS cream of mushroom.  But not THOSE kind of mushrooms.  sigh.

It's a learning process.