There's no escaping taxes.....

and Lapband moments.....


Alright, so you want to get your mind off of the IRS? Stick with me, friends. I'm going to tell you all about my PBs (for those uninformed--it stands for Productive Burping...AKA vomiting....which is a much-feared Lapband problem...).

Let me set the stage for you--I spent a few days outside of the U.S.---away from the IRS and all of the stressors of life. While there, my Lapband and I lived happily. I ate reasonably for a holiday weekend. A few pieces of chocolate here, a few jelly beans there, a few pieces of ham, some of my brother-in-law's famous scalloped potatoes, a nice sized helping of my sister's to-die-for sweet potato casserole and even a little portion of scrambled eggs and bacon. In between, I snacked on some luscious wines, a few tastey frozen mango-berry margaritas (Williams Sonoma's mixes are amazing) and a sweet little vodka-chambord concoction. And, of course, I snuck in a few of my beloved chai lattes with energy shots.
Yes, it was a weekend of little deprivation and a whole lot of relaxation....
Then, I crossed the border....
It was then that my father got a tad bit hungry. Luckily, I packed him a few ham sandwiches for the trip home. So, I dutifully unwrapped the sandwiches for him--sneaking a piece of ham for myself. A few moments later-- all hell broke loose. The pain. The unimaginable pain. The praying to vomit. And, the need to do it without upsetting my father or his little picnic-in-the-car lunch.
Through Buffalo and Seneca and Dunkirk, I discreetly PBed into the bag that once held the sandwiches. When we reached the border of Pennsylvania, I could no longer control the eruptions. Another bag, a lot more pain and continued prayers. As we pulled into familiar territory, the episodes grew with intensity until I could no longer control when and how much I would PB. It kept coming and coming until we reached our driveway. And then it stopped. Like magic.
After unpacking the car and getting things put away, Toni and I headed over to our beloved Starbucks for some fuel and then on to Giant Eagle to restock for the week. As I sipped my chai latte in the produce section, a woman approached me with samples. Oh, I was so hungry. So, I took the little cup of the finely shredded chicken salad that she was offering and cautiously nibbled on it as I checked out the yams that were on special. Toni was off looking for her favorite apples when it hit me--another Lapband moment. I feverishly steered my cart to find her--pushed it towards her without explanation and high-tailed it to the closest bathroom---seething in pain and knowing that a viscous PB was due at any moment. Luckily, I reached the restroom before it happened. I was lucky that time. I just didn't know how lucky I was....
UNTIL....
As we were strolling down the cereal aisle, I could feel the pain return. That awful, awful pain and that terrible feeling of everything coming up. And, I knew that I was trapped. With nowhere to go and nothing to stop the havoc inside of me--it happened. Right there in the cereal aisle--as Toni looked on in horror. It was as if time had stood still.
When it all ended--we ran. Fast. Me--off to find a bathroom and Toni--away from the scene of the crime. Once I was safely inside the bathroom--it happened again. And, again and again.
When I finally felt safe--I returned to find Toni. Once again, we set out to finish our shopping. And, once again...it happened. Luckily, this time, I was close to a towel dispenser. So, I hid behind the meat counter with a ream of paper towels--hoping not to be seen.
Again, we set out to shop. It was then that I ran into someone who I had not seen in quite awhile--a very talkative and sassy friend of a friend. Just then, I could feel the pain. As she went to greet me with a hug, I could feel the PB oozing out of the side of my mouth. And, when we parted, I could see it--on her black jacket. I had literally vomited on this woman's jacket as she was telling me how fabulous I look! This was no time for explanations or discussions or chit-chat. I wiped her jacket off--telling her that I got something on her, bid her farewell and gave her my apologies for messing up her jacket and walked as fast as I could to the bathroom.....
A few hundred dollars and a cart full of groceries later....I made it out the door and into the safety of the parking lot where I could wretch and wretch without detection---which is just what I did.
When we got into the car, Toni finally spoke "you ate everything in Canada". She was right. "You even ate ham," she reminded me. Again, she was right. "I'll bet it was the stress of coming back...."
Ah, out of the mouths of babes....
My guess it was that and the fact that I had no wine, vodka or tequila to wash it down with.
Just like taxes.....you need something to help with the pain....

May your tax day include something to dull your pain!


Disclaimer: For anyone considering Lapband or who is already Lapbanded....do not let this isolated incident deter you from getting one or embracing the one you have. This was clearly an usual situation and it did not diminish my Lapband love. It was not fun but it sure makes for a funny blog post...doesn't it?