30 Days Without Eating: A Journey of Tubes, Tears, and Trying to Stay Alive
It’s been exactly a month since I’ve tasted any food. Crazy, right? I’m still alive, still thriving (sort of), and still sustaining my nutrients through my trusty PEG tube. Or, as I like to call myself now, a “PEG tuber.” Gotta keep the humor alive somehow! Most people ask me two questions: Do you miss eating? and Is there any food you crave?
Honestly, I’m not a foodie. I’ve always been in the “eat to live” camp, not the “live to eat” one. So, no, I don’t have cravings, and no, I’m not dreaming of pizza or chocolate cake. But you know what I do miss? A decent, head-to-toe shower. Thanks to the exposed wound around my tube site, I’ve been forced into alternate-day showers. And let me tell you, when you’re skipping showers, you really don’t want people standing too close. You’ve been warned.
But jokes aside, this has been an emotional rollercoaster—for me and my family. And while I’ve been able to accept my new reality, I can’t say the same for everyone around me, especially my mum.
My Last Meal: Bittersweet Memories in India
The last meal I had was in India, where swallowing became an impossible task. To be honest, I don’t think much about the food itself, but I often think about my mum and how much she wanted to give her son one final meal. She never got that chance, and it eats away at her. She cries unexpectedly, avoids even glancing at my tube-feeding setup, and stays away from the “equipment.” She’s holding onto this belief that one day, I’ll eat again, even though I’ve accepted that this is my new normal.
I’m not one to make people cry. I love making people laugh. So seeing her break down—it’s heartbreaking. The other day, she told me, “If only your health were good, my retirement would be so fulfilled and happy.” I know she didn’t mean to make me feel like a burden, but in some ways, I can’t help but feel like I am part of the equation. Who would want to see their child unable to eat, tied to a feeding bag, or struggling with physical limitations?
The Emotional Weight of Chinese New Year
With Chinese New Year coming up, I know things are going to get even harder for her. I won’t be visiting relatives this year. There’s no way I can handle the endless questions about why I’m not eating or, worse, why I’m not there. I know my absence will sting for her, especially when she has to reply all those questions from relatives.
When she broke down on the phone the other day, sharing my situation with her brother, I realized that crying might be her only form of release. I can’t resent her for that. If crying helps her cope, I need to let her have that space. My job is to be strong for her, even when it feels like I’m the one who deserves to cry most.
Finding Humor in the Hard Times
So here I am, a month into this journey, trying to make the best of it. Not eating has some perks, believe it or not. I save hours not thinking about what to eat or prepping meals. Meal replacement through a tube from FRESUBIN milk (sponsor alert) is as straightforward as it gets — although it does take the fun out of life’s little indulgences.
What I would indulge in, though, is a waterproof cover for my PEG site. Seriously, if anyone out there invents one, sign me up! I dream of long, hot showers and maybe even a soak in the pool one day. It’s the little things, you know?
Lessons in Acceptance and Strength
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past month, it’s this: acceptance doesn’t come easy, and it’s not just about my journey. It’s about helping the people I love come to terms with it, too. I can’t force my mum to stop crying or to feel better overnight. But I can practice equanimity and remind myself that her emotions are hers to process.
I’ve also learned that taking care of myself is non-negotiable. Not just physically, but mentally. This is a long road—maybe even a decade of no eating—and I need to approach it with peace and humor, or it’s going to get unbearable.
Wrapping Up: A PEG Tuber’s Perspective
So, no, I don’t miss eating. But I do miss certain freedoms—like taking a proper shower or not worrying about how my mum feels every time she looks at me. This journey isn’t just about survival; it’s about finding moments of joy, even when life looks nothing like what you imagined.
To anyone out there dealing with health challenges, know this: it’s okay to grieve the things you’ve lost. But don’t lose sight of the things you can still enjoy, even if they’re as simple as cracking a joke about your PEG tube or imagining a waterproof cover that doesn’t exist (yet).
And if you ever need a reminder that you can get through tough times, just think of me—shower-skipping, PEG-tubing, but still smiling fabulously.
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