Cramping after gastric bypass

I must be in the minority in that I don’t see a difference in my appetite even at 5.0. I’m post-Lapband, converted in 2021 to gastric bypass, but when I started gaining weight after my last surgery (about 40 lbs) after nearly a year on steroids for an inflammation problem, I was happy to see Zepbound was an option to get me back down.
I am trying not to panic and instead I’m just wondering who had a similar lack of response, and what dosage finally gave you results?

Hi all,
I had gastric bypass surgery in May of 2020. Ever since, there are so many things that I used to eat, but now taste like the packaging it's in. For example, I was told to drink protein shakes for nutrition after such a surgery -- but I never could because all I could taste was the container it was in. Didn't matter if it was in a tetra pak or in a plastic bottle. I was suddenly reminded of it today when I had one of those slices of pie from burger king today, the pie tasted like the plastic coating they put in the container. Yogurt is also a no go for me. Tastes like sour plastic garbage.
I still can't drink water either, water tastes terrible even after all these years. I used to drink a liter of Evian every day, now, can't do it.
Anybody else?

I had a gastric sleeve six years ago and had great results, but I also had a lot of complications and side effects. I always had GERD, but after the sleeve it got severe to the point where I need to take a massive dose of omeprazole twice a day, which has wrecked my calcium absorption and given me widespread osteoporosis. I also have bile reflux, which is causing gastritis, adding to my already-elevated stomach cancer risk. The sleeve surgery included the repair of a small hiatal hernia that I had had for at least a decade. Now I have a new hiatal hernia; a much larger one that is causing me a lot of trouble with swallowing and digestion.
The treatment for all these issues is a revision to a Roux-en-Y. Has anyone else needed a revision to gastric bypass? What was your experience? Did your issues resolve? Did you find yourself dealing with new issues?

I am a male ,39, with a long history of stones. long history being 20+ years. i get various stone types including uric acid, calcium, oxalate, salt, protein. right after high school is when it all started for me. i recently passed a 3mm after 2 weeks of "fighting" it. ive passed a protein stone that was the size of a coco puff. ive had many surgeries for bigger sizes that end in centimeter sizes. over the years ive learned triggers, iced tea, mountain dew, cooking/eating no or low sodium, so on.
4 years ago i had gastric bypass. now it makes it a bit harder because i dehydrate fasteeasier. ive even starting paying grass company to cut the lawn so im not out in the heat (when its that time of the year). most recent as i said was a 3mm and i believe i knew it was coming because i took the kids to the zoo on a hot day, even though i was drinking water and feeling like i was floating away, it wasnt enough.
i have a follow up urology next week and i imagine they are going to say the same thing ive been hearing for decades, drink more water, stay hydrated and the usual speel. my PCP thinks that this will be a lifetime inconvenience for me because its not just one type.
to end this i want to put it in perspective, i get more or less 1-2 stones a month for the last 20 years, various months span i might not have any other months it just breaks off and i have a ton. overall, mostly anything under 5mm is an irrigation for me and i can function just fine with an annoying pressure pain, depending on the shape and spikes.
Thanks for reading.

They left me. Dear God, they left me. They really fucking left me. I’m… What, millions of miles away from home?! I’m hiding in one of the bunkers on this God-forsaken planet.. M.I.A, no reinforcements, no objective, starving, and I’ve been her for God-knows-how-long. I’m alone with those THINGS. THE DEATH TOLL IS ALWAYS CLIMBING, THE MORTALITY RATE IS ALWAYS CLIMBING. THERE ARE NO “VETERAN HELLDIVERS”, BECAUSE WE NEVER SURVIVE ONE MISSION! WE’RE NOT MEANT TO SURVIVE! Please, someone, anyone come. I didn’t ask for this, for enlistment. They promised adventure, liberation, heroism. THEY LIED! I still hear the screams, the smell of the blood, the cries of my comrades. God, I’m so sorry, Anna. I’m sorry I was enlisted before our anniversary. I’m sorry I won’t see Henry's fourth birthday. I’m so fucking sorry
The rest was completely illegible, even to Styer’s trained eyes. Maybe it was the tear stains, or the dried bloodstains that took up half the yellowed paper, but for all of him, Styer could not read the bottom half. He adjusted his white collar, and tugged at his light red tie. He had read through and destroyed tens of hundreds of these types of “traitorous” notes and transmissions, to ensure these never reach the public. The Ministry of Truth had put him, and countless others in charge of what they called “Filtering”. It was a long and arduous process that took hours, but when he moved to the small incinerator beside him to finish off the process his body had practically saved in its memory; he hesitated. This struck a chord in him, one worse than all the others had. His black eyebrows knitted together as he re-read the paper for what seemed like the fiftieth time. Well, to be fair; he was trained to skim-read through them, then throw the damn things to the incinerator, but today.. He didn’t. For one, he was glad nobody was present at his little cubicle besides himself and his still-on computer, displaying the flag of Super Earth. Any sort of hesitation was an act of high treason, and punishable by death on the spot. Normally, there would be two specialized “Eighters” keeping watch over him and the countless other “Filtration enlistees”, but there seemed to be a lapse in security. One Styer was thankful to Lady Liberty for. A cold sweat beaded on the back of Styer’s neck, as he felt the heat through the vents even as it spilled ice-cold air. He could faintly hear the sound of boots stamping on concrete, and the sound of dying engines coming from above. After two quick glances around his surroundings, and ensuring the camera was turned in the opposite direction of him, Styer quickly stuffed the note in his coat pocket, almost fully concealing the small paper.
Mars Docking Bay September 27th, 2184, 1200 Hours.
The brisk winds of the Red Planet hit Uzi like the most welcoming sucker punch as the VTOL’s ramp dropped, especially after the “training” that was Hellmire. Just thinking of that planet sent a chill down the worker’s spine. God, she wanted to never return to that planet. Those bug things, and that absolutely fucking horrible smell would surely haunt her dreams for months to come. The docking bay was a breath of fresh air, both literally and figuratively. It was the first time Uzi had seen this many living humans. People were pushing carts full of equipment, Helldivers were being saluted, and soft jazz played from the speakers overhead. Wait, was that… Cantina Band? Uzi could’ve sworn that it was Star Wars music playing, but it had a different rhythm. Uzi grabbed at her hair slightly, slightly frowning at the feeling of a small Super Earth pin on the fabric as she walked down the ramp along with the seasoned Helldiver and the rest of the drones. The Sergeant had taken the beanie and stuck a pin on it, due to it being “Important for patriotic duties.” The moment the group stepped a single foot on the ground level of the dock, they were met with suspicious, almost angered glances from almost everyone besides Andrew, who guided the confused drones throughout the mass of humans. Some were in blue and black work uniforms, others in black and golden armor, but without Helldiver helmets, keenly watching the people and putting up posters glorifying Super Earth and the Helldivers. Andrew had no need to push past the people, for they made way for him, as if the Helldiver was some Royal. “This,” He began, turning around to the drones and throwing his hands up, walking backwards with seemingly no care at all. “Is how us Helldivers are treated. We’re basically the guardians of all things Liberty, so they owe everything to us. I hope you all know how to act rich, because I sure as hell don’t.” Turning back around, the Sergeant picked up speed, albeit slightly. The sound of a car engine humming was barely heard through the constant noise and the sounds of ships docking and taking off, but the humming got louder the more they proceeded to the other side of the dockyard.
After what seemed like a century of walking, they finally were graced by a flight of stairs, and an armored car that looked more like an APC than a regular transport vehicle. Uzi took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing as she tried to will away all of the possibilities that were going fifty-over in her CPU. She turned to J, the two normally sworn enemies sharing nervous glances as they all proceeded down the marble stairs. V’s hand brushed against the freezing gold railing in the middle of the stairwell as she tried to push yesterday’s incident out of her mind. Yet for all her efforts, it would not stop replaying in her head, as if it was her only core memory set to replay.“Alright, get your asses on the Freedom Brick, as I call it.” Andrew broke the silence the moment they had finished descending, gesturing to the open back doors. J gulped as she stepped in, taking the rear velvet-colored seat. They were oddly comfortable for an APC, and there was even a walnut armrest to the left of her. She was soon followed by Rex clamoring into the front seat, then Uzi in the back with the other three. The two drones made a short, yet incredibly spiteful bout of glares before Uzi took her seat at the front.
Then came N and V, the two taking opposite seats. Uzi blinked hard, her body shaking ever so slightly as the worker tried to piece everything together. It had all happened so quickly; it seemed blurry. God, Uzi was getting a migraine just trying to piece it all together. Uzi rubbed the ache between her optics as best she could as the doors slammed shut, making her and some of the other drones jump as the APC took off. Her mind wandered off, thinking of Copper-9.

She wouldn’t say it was simpler times back then; it was far from a happy life, much less a simple one. Her thoughts wandered to her father, to Doll, the prom incident, and meeting that space girl. What was her name…? Tessa? Uzi was far too stressed, tired, and on edge to remember. Every jolt of the car, every bump in the road, and the faint radio playing were all multiplied by twenty. Trying to ignore the constant thudding in her heart, Uzi pressed three fingers to the side of her visor, turning on her playlist yet again. She began to slightly sway her head to the music, lulling her head back and trying to will her body to relax into her seat. Uzi forced an exhale as she listened to the song’s somber melody, tapping the outside of her thigh to the rhythm.
*Underneath the bridge, tarp has sprung a leak… And the animals I've trapped have all become my pets… And I'm livin’ off of grass, and the drippings from my ceiling… It’s okay to eat fish, cuz’ they don’t have any feelings….*Every time the worker was just about to be lured into unconsciousness, the car's constant jolting would startle her at least half-awake. For all of their constant speak of Liberty and paradise, one would think they would be able to flatten out their damn roads.

Something in the way… hmmm-mmm… Something in the way, yeah. Mmmm-hmmm…

Uzi rarely got much of any sleep at all due to the newfound burning discomfort of the seats, and the constant screeching of the bugs, the gunfire… The corpses. Uzi shook her head, leaning her elbows on her knees as best she could, trying to once again will away the gnawing feeling of dread that accompanied thinking of Hellmire. It was practically three hundred thousand degrees down there. Well, Uzi didn't know the exact temperature, but it sure as hell felt like it. The way sweat streamed down her visor like she had just sucked in all of Niagara Falls’ water, and it was now all spilling out was incredibly exhausting. Uzi was just about to let out a groan and toss in her seat when the vehicle came to a halt. J and V were fast asleep in their seats, their arms slumped on the armrest in a position that would no doubt give them both one helluva cramp, and their bodies were relaxed in the faux leather. Edge, meet Uzi. Yeah, the worker was on edge, in a major way. Thousands of questions and scenarios swarmed her mind like thousands of maggots designed to chip away at sanity instead of bodies. By one-thirty, the APC had come to a halt by some sort of security checkpoint. Uzi didn’t know, she couldn’t see half of anything from her seat. But she could see just enough to make out what it was by slightly stretching up and looking over her shoulder through the small window behind her seat. Preventing the APC from going much further than five feet was a dual boom gate, controlled by an operator cabin on each side, the white yellow and blue lights slowly blinking as if they had run out of battery. In front of the two cabins were two soldiers. They were heavily armored, but Uzi couldn’t quite see the weapons they carried, but it was safe to assume they were just as big as their wielders. Juggernauts, that was for one. Both in mass and in height. They looked like they could squash N on a rainy day. The two soldiers stood at perfect attention, not moving a muscle; as if they were toys yet to turn on.

The checkpoint was guarding what looked to be a tunnel going under Mars' surface, but there were no lights illuminating the passway. At least, no lights Uzi had seen. The checkpoint itself was a muted, yet oddly clean darkish-blue. The two operating cabins' front-facing windows were tinted to the point of complete invisibility. Uzi felt an ice-cold fear slither down her spine like a snake slithering towards its prey as one of the soldiers marched towards the driver's window. It was almost robotic, almost preprogrammed. They exchanged words that Uzi could barely hear at all. But just as the soldier began to march back to his post, the drone could've sworn they had looked dead in her eyes for a split second too long. Even through the gas masks that made their eyes look like two voids, Uzi could tell. That pair of eyes burned into her very soul for a second too long. Another cold chill ran its way down her spine, and everything seemed to get colder. The APC once again accelerated, almost throwing Uzi out of her seat and forcing Uzi to turn back around as the armored vehicle slowly passed over the once-guarded tunnel, the boom guards raising up just enough for the APC to pass over it. They entered the underground entrance just as hundreds of overhead lights clicked on almost instantly, its silent hum quickly overtaken by the echo of tires on pavement as the APC picked up speed. A mix of fear and excitement coursed through Uzi's veins as the APC sped down the long tunnel. The music that was once playing smoothly was now choppy, stuttering and buffering to the point of unintelligibility, and was accompanied with occasional static. The electric guitar riffs that now came off as nails on a chalkboard, drums that sounded like guns being fired right next to her auditory receptors, and vocals were now almost ear-piercingly distorted to the point of Uzi barely being able to make out the most of the lyrics.

I must'a died alone… A long, long time ago… You're face… To face… With the man who sold the world…

Okay, now this was beginning to get on her nerves. Uzi irritatedly turned off the music, playing with her fingers as the seconds ticked by. Excitement was soon overtaken by fear as the teen tensed. As much as she tried to push out the fear, or at least trap it in a secluded corner of her mind, the primal emotion always seemed to seep out like small tendrils bending the bars of its imprisonment, waiting for the perfect hour to break through any and all defenses and overwhelm the young drone as quickly and devastatingly as a cyclone. Minutes drained into hours as the APC finally came to a stop. Just a couple seconds after, the back doors flew open, and the four drones were roughly grabbed and thrown out of the APC by four different juggernauts. The next thing the worker knew, she, along with the rest of the drones were being pinned down by some sort of metal dog that bared its sharp teeth at her, saliva dripping from its mouth and bubbling at the rims. Though Uzi wasn't able to see their weapons earlier, even through her pained and swimming vision from landing back-first on titanium flooring, she could just make out the small flames that sprouted from the nozzle of their weapons. Her heart hammered in her chest as she frantically turned her head to V, now wide awake and panicked. She was trying to squirm out of the hold of the hound, but the more she squirmed, the more it barked and snapped its jaws at her, making V lean into the titanium flooring as best she could, trying to create some distance between those razor-sharp teeth and her head.

In the corner of her eye, J spotted Andrew. He circled around them almost casually, as if determining what to say. J’s body shook with anger, but she held her tongue. The last time she had done something like this, it ended with a splitting headache on her end. “Don't worry, they're not gonna kill you. You're gonna be taken in for questioning, then you'll be trained as Helldivers.” He explained. Even still, that didn't serve to calm the four drones much, if at all. “If it helps any, I really didn't know this was going to happen. Only learned; like… A couple hours ago. Alright, goodnight.”

Each of the four drones felt a sharp pain in their neck, then their vision slowly darkened, and the pain numbed. The last thing they saw was those hounds, as bloodthirsty and animalistic as ever, saliva still dripping from their mouths and onto the drones’ clothes. Then nothing.

Mars under Super Earth Control, 1500 Hours, September 27th, 2184.

When J came to, darkness surrounded her. It was almost peaceful. Peace. That was something J had never felt at all. She never remembered feeling at peace…. Well, ever. This was new, unnerving even. Hell, the drone was half-tempted to think they had killed her. A sudden, and bright white light shining directly in her face proved her wrong, making the drone wince and shut one eye; instinctively moving her head to the left in a futile attempt to shield her optics from the light that blinded the Apostle Paul. She leaned back, and cold metal pressed against her, sending a chill of equally as cold fear down her spine. Her optics hollowed, questions and possibilities running through her mind at thousands of miles an hour. Cotton brushed against her arms and back, loosely so. Her heart rate skyrocketed, and she felt lightheaded the more she looked down at the ceil blue gown she was in. Was she in a hospital gown?
Then the pain came. It was a searing, slow-building pain that started off as a dull sensation, and grew into a white-hot, burning, stinging agony. It started at her torso, then spread throughout her body like a cancer. J’s chest tightened, and she struggled to take a breath she was damn sure she had no need for.

“Apologies for the pain, and what we had to do to you.”

‘ What did they do to me?! ’ A primal fear caused J’s body to shake as her CPU tried to bridge the gaps. Tens of thousands of possibilities; each worse than the last, ran through J’s systems like a flood of patrons on Black Friday. She squirmed on her seat as the light died down, black and red splotches dancing across her vision. The light itself did not illuminate much of the room, and J’s night vision wasn't doing much either, surprisingly.
NIGHT VISION NUMBED.

‘ Oh. Oh fuck. ’

The more the murder drone squirmed, the more the cuffs dug into her wrists. Trying to ignore the pain as best she could, J wiggled her arms, trying to dislocate any of the two limbs. Almost like being struck by a bullet, a searing volt of electricity shot through her systems, making her cry in agony, her optics completely whitening as she slumped over on the table, the prickling sensation akin to a million needles pricking her casing. J’s every breath was shaky and erratic as she struggled to straighten up. The former torrent of anger, rage and fear was completely consumed by one emotion. An ice-cold, primal dread.

“Like I said before, please excuse the pain. We had to make sure you weren't an Automaton. You don't look the part, certainly. But we had to make sure.” The voice coming from the other side of the darkened silver table was a smooth, honeyed, masculine voice Lucifer probably used to deceive Adam and Eve. “Your functioning, systems… Your inner workings are unlike anything our top scientists have ever seen before.”

J had no idea if that was a compliment, or an insult. The very distant sounds of a certain gruff voice shouting was faintly heard by J, getting closer and closer.

“So, let's cut to the chase, shall we? You are from… 3071, correct?”

“Correct.” J replied, a sense of uneasiness in her voice as her brows pulled together.

“We already know what you are. A Disassembly Drone, purposed to eliminate Worker Drones and construct spires out of their corpses. Reminds me of Dead Space, really. Our technicians did some prodding in your systems, and… The results have been passed up to High Command. Not much has been… Publicized, about your kind.” He said. The ranting and shouting grew closer, yet closer as the interrogator pressed on. “What brought you here?”

“I don't…. Know myself. I nodded off while on a ship, and… I wake up on another.” J spared the details of the exact ship she was in. J’s mind rushed over to Tessa, and an anxiety crept down her back. That was practically the only friend she'd ever had, like Hell these motherfuckers would track her down.

“What ship?” He asked.

A dead silence, only broken by the shouting in the distance, still growing closer and more audible.

“ What ship? ” He pressed.

Before J could even answer, the interrogation door flew open, revealing a very pissed off Rex. He stormed into the interrogation room, and began ranting once more about the “procedure” J and the other drones had gone under involuntarily.

“Sergeant Andrew, calm down.” The interrogator said, trying to calm the Helldiver as he pressed on.

“Calm down?! You're telling me to calm down when you people just fucking… Cut the four of them open?” The Welshman shouted, pointing to J. “If they were Automatons, I would've blown their brains out by now.”

“We do not know what they are, and their capabilities will give us an edge over our enemies. Even a source of how they change weapons somehow will help us dramatically . The wings, the missile launchers. Hell, the regenerative capabilities If we can… Replicate what they have,” He reasoned, pointing to J, only a half of his hand peeking into the light. “We would have a completely unimaginable boost. Our scientists have extracted what they need, but I must do my job. Now, leave so I can extract the proper information from this drone.”

“I'll tell you how you can help yourself, you can cease all study of my recruits, and return them to my sole custody, or I will shove my boot so far up your ass that it'll nudge your microscopic brain, and maybe promote some damn growth.” Andrew snarled in reply.

“They're yours?” The interrogator asked, surprise evident in his voice. That calm and collected voice was completely overtaken by surprise.

“Oh, no shit. I wouldn't have given a damn if they weren't.”

J felt like she was in the middle of a custody dispute.

“In that case…” The cuffs on J loosened, slowly but surely. In a couple seconds, it popped off, as well as a sort of shock collar on her neck, clattering to the floor harmlessly. “Under policy, we are not to question Helldiver recruits. You may proceed to training.” J breathed the largest sigh of relief at those words. But when the drone got up, her legs buckled, and it took all of her willpower not to fall over flat on her face. Without even thinking, J outstretched her arm, slinging it over Andrew’s shoulder. The Helldiver didn't resist, instead helping the beleaguered drone out of the room.
Mars under Super Earth Control, 1800 Hours, September 27th, 2184.

The first thing that has struck them all was the sheer scale of the large underground facility. Cool winds washed over the group as they entered through the large, reinforced doors, clad in Helldiver armor, but missing their helmets. The facility was massive, with sprawling training grounds that seemed to stretch on forever. Just a short walk away was an obstacle course, with towering walls, rope climbs, and muddy trenches. Above them were what looked to be machine guns stationed across the trench lines.

They weren't live… Were they?

Just overhead, the Super Earth anthem’s instrumental version softly played on the speakers. Groups of trainees were already present, some giving confused glances at the drones. Some of them were running through exercises, the stamping of boots on concrete filling the air. Andrew… He was quite literally shaking with elation, as if he was an excited toddler on Christmas morning. They were all quickly pushed off to the central area, filled with obstacle courses, muddy trenches, rope climbs, and different rooms with monitors plastered with the flag of Super Earth, news outlets faintly detailing the latest happenings of the “ Special Military Operation ” currently going on, several different planets flashing across the screen. At those words, a cold fear slithered down all four drones’ spines. They regarded the shit they saw, what they had to do… As a special military operation? A simple skirmish?
Standing there was a stern, sharp-featured face, a scar running down his left cheek. He was clad in Helldiver armor, but he had medals adorned on his left breastplate, and he also was without his helmet. When he laid eyes on Andrew, his eyes momentarily softened, as if he had come across an old friend, but it vanished like a vapor in the wind. In a flash, he brought his left arm upward, saluting the drones and Andrew. The Welshman salutes just as quickly as the man, but the drones took a couple extra seconds to reply. His eyes fell to Uzi, who was nervously glancing around, twirling a strand of her dull purple hair with her index finger.

“You.” His voice boomed, causing the startled worker to look up at the man, his cold and calculating eyes sending a chill down her spine. “One step foward. March !”
Without any of her usual backsass, Uzi took one step forward, not daring to move a muscle after that.

“Feet closer. Hands to your sides. Head up. Stern. No emotion.” He commanded, watching the teen's quite horrible attention stance, which was quickly straightened up as best as possible. Though the man wouldn't admit it out loud, it was… Rather impressive, for a first-timer. He nodded a nod that even Andrew barely noticed before stepping forward, analyzing each of the drones, now standing at attention, trying to mimic Uzi's stance as best as possible. He slowly walked up and down, his eyes never leaving each of the five. “Sergeant, these are yours, correct?” He asked, quietly chuckling after Andrew nodded. He nodded once more, this time more noticeable. “I see Hellmire has taken them to shape. I can see why you see something in them.”

The man spoke to Andrew like he was an old friend, a warm edge to his voice, despite his outward appearance. “Alright then. Let's see if you are what you seem. I am General Brasch, and I will be your drill sergeant, and your guide to joining the Galaxy's most elite peacekeeping force.” He introduced. “Now, I have far better things to do than teach recruits, but I will make an exception, in this case. Now, each of you, drop down. I want ninety, right this instant. Let's see if you're really up for being a Helldiver.” His voice lost that warmness, quickly replaced by that cold edge from earlier. “Then after this, you are to run the obstacle courses after doing ninety more sit-ups, and navigate through the trench within thirty minutes.” He said, holding up a small digital timer.

The oil in each drones’ veins froze at that statement. Thirty fucking minutes?! ‘That's impossible.’ J thought, staring at the general with widened and hollowed optics.

A dead silence, as if time had frozen at his words.

“Now, ‘fore I bump it up to one-hundred!” He barked. If anything, his order sounded more of like a pitbull barking than a human shouting. Far worse than the generic drill sergeant they had naively expected. Brasch nodded to Andrew, prompting a nod from the younger Helldiver as he walked off, the General watching the drones drop down and begin to do the push-ups.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

Brasch counted loudly, his counting only serving to heighten the four drones’ stress. Sweat beaded on J’s visor as she cleared her thirtieth push-up.

“After this segment of exercise, you will be each handed a schedule paper detailing your new workday. I suggest you get used to it, and quickly.” He said, his voice growing colder and colder by the minute.
It was times like these where Uzi had the sudden wish to go back to Copper-9. Back home, to her dad's horrible parenting, and rants about Nightcore. Hell, she'd be glad if she had to put up with Lizzy of all people, again! After a couple grueling minutes, they had all finished. Though they were all far from completely tired, the constant exercise had made their muscles ache. It was a dull ache at best, however. But Brasch gave them no time to rest.

“Back down, ninety-five sit-ups.” Even when he didn't raise his voice, he still sounded intimidating. Without question, the drones obeyed, trying their best to ignore the General's loud counting that did nothing to soothe their fears.

Wait, didn’t he say ninety beforehand?

“Dive, dive, dive! You straighten up, you get fucked up! Keep your heads down!” Brasch’s shouting was barely heard over the auditory receptor-piercing sound of gunfire. ‘ Holy shit, they were fuckin' live! ’ Uzi’s dull purple hair was matted with mud as she crawled through the mud-filled trench, occasionally freezing when a bullet almost grazed her. Her eyes snapped shut, and her muscles ached and cried for respite. The once reasonably-lightweight Helldiver armor had become an anvil strapped to her body. The other drones fared just as, if not worse than Uzi. Bullet whizzed by them as they slowly and painstakingly crawled through the mud. Her holstered rifle brushed against the mud, adding to the weight she had to carry. Even through the fatigue, the teen pushed on, the bullets flying by her constantly reminding her of what would happen should she dare to stop for one second.

“Jesus fuckin' Christ, what the hell?!” J screamed, her hands flying to her head as a bullet zoomed past her, barely missing her head, her body stiffening for a second before the murder drone forced it to resume crawling, this time much faster. “Is he trying to kill us or something?!” The words came out in panicky bursts as the drones scrambled like rats in a race across the trench, caked in mud. The dark brown gloop obscured V’s vision to the point of being unable to see five feet ahead of her. The murder drone ground her teeth and forced herself to press on, albeit nervously and clumsily.

“Come on, go, go, go! The enemy will not wait for you to get your shit together! Move your asses!” Brasch shouted over the chaos. He stood a safe distance away from the chaos, hands tucked behind his waist, but he kept those cold dark-gray orbs on the drones, analyzing their every move and imperfection.
Midway through the already arduous climb, the scorching heat was replacing with a biting cold that even Copper-9’s climate could not even hold a candle to. Uzi felt like she’d completely freeze, even if she moved. But the end was in sight, thankfully. Each of the four drones scrambled up the rope, mantling up the ledge and doubling over in complete exhaustion. There was a whole other segment just a walk away, but their bodies would no longer heed their orders to move. Each of the recruit’s breaths came out in shaky gasps as V was suddenly pulled up. It was another Helldiver recruit. “Up you get.” He said, his voice youthful yet stern, much like Andrew’s.

“Corporal Michaels, you are to guide the recruits through the minefield and guide them through engagement with the Automatons.” Brasch shouted from below. Damn he had a loud voice. The platform itself was… Substantially high up, for lack of a better term. None of the four recruits wanted to look down, though. Uzi’s hands shook at the thought crossing her mind, her hand brushing on the railing to her left.
“Sir, yes sir!” He shouted back without missing a beat before turning to the exhausted recruits, most of which now back on their feet. “I'd watch where you all put your feet. Oh, and don't look down.” He warned, before gesturing to the minefield. It was intricately laid out, like a series of dominoes waiting to fall. He walked up to the field, stopping short when he came to the end of the small ramp going down into the hazardous grounds, waiting for the other drones to come along. He stood as still as a statue, the lights above casting a glare on his pitch-black helmet. After a second’s worth of reluctance, the drones exhaustedly staggered forward, stopping beside the corporal Helldiver, staring down the narrow, yet spacious passageway. “Normally you won’t be given this time to survey, but look around you. Any way to bypass these mines, you use it.” He explained, his voice monotone and body unmoving, as if he had said this millions of times before. “However, you are to never use your fellow diver as a meat shield. That is a complete disgrace to everything we stand for as Helldivers.” His voice grew into a cold disdain, as if those who did that were roaches that needed to be exterminated. “Worst comes to worst; and you die, you die. It happens.” He continued, the sheer callousness in his voice sending chills down the four recruits’ spines. “Once again, look for ways to bypass these mines. I really don’t want to have to see another batch implode again.”

And with that, they began. Almost instantly, V drew her rifle, firing thrice. The three mines in the middle detonated, taking three more with it in the process, clearing the path for the first segment of mines. Michaels slowly clapped as they pressed on, clearing the mines with surprising efficiency. This was generally the first time Uzi had held an actual rifle in her hands. The only “rifle” she had ever held was her railgun. The weapon felt good in her hands, and when she fired it at the mines, the recoil was surprisingly minimal. Uzi’s lips curled into a shadow of a smirk. Oh, hell yes.
“Good, you’re not mashed potatoes. Now let's see how you fare against this.” He said, swiping on the small screen on his wrist. Almost the second after Michaels stopped swiping, five robots were elevated to the surface. “These are Automatons. You kill them.” Three were just their height, two equipped with rifles and one a rocket launcher. The other two were far bigger, their spine and head glowing a fire orange. Instead of arms, they had chainsaws, and long, curving spikes adorned their backs. They were certainly not drones, that was for sure. They looked like humanoid endoskeletons, and their eyes were two glowing orbs of red, as if it had been extracted from the fires of Hell itself. The moment they had laid eyes on the recruit Helldivers, the two big ones charged forward, while the three smaller bots raised their rifles and launchers.

“What the hell are those things?!” V shouted, raising her rifle and firing, striking the bigger bots God-knows-how-many-times. Even though it was practically riddled with bullet holes, it charged forward at V and J, a high pitched manic laughter crawling up from it's voice box as it's chainsaws revved. Both drones’ mouths fell open, but no sound came out. They squeezed the trigger, not even bothering to let go as N and Uzi dispatched the other three bots. The small teen’s bullets made contact with the smaller Automations, oil splattering out of their bodies as they were peppered by Liberator bullets. Uzi watched as the Automatons fell, the glow dissipating, leaving only blackness in their eyes. It felt… Exhilarating. A fresh adrenaline rush that almost overwhelmed her. With the smaller ones gone, she and N turned their focus to V and J. J barely dodged one of the swipes from the bigger Automaton, a surprised yelp slipping from her lips as she ducked. The chainsaw barely missed her, slicing a couple strands of her silver hair clean off. A kick took the murder drone completely off guard, sending the drone staggering back. Her back pressed on the rail, before she flipped over, her hand instinctively grabbing onto the rail, holding on for dear life as she dangled off the edge.
Another swipe forced the Helldiver-in-training to swing leftward, creating enough momentum to propel herself upwards, flipping herself over the Automaton, and towards the railing. She landed with catlike grace, landing in a perched position, despite her peglegs. She dodged yet another combination of chainsaw attacks, jumping back, and to the left, back onto solid ground, almost bumping into Uzi. J breathed a sigh of relief after her feet (or lack thereof) made contact with the floor, her heart rate still going one-million per second, even though the short worker was now giving her a short-lived but intense glare.

“Watch where you're going, will you?” She snapped.

But there was no time to rest. Another swipe forced J to lean backwards, the blades barely grazing her armor as her sidearm flung out of its holster. She fired blindly at the Automaton’s torso, the chainsaw-bot finally falling over, dead.

“J, down!” Uzi shouted. Almost instinctively, J threw herself downward as another shot rang out. The Automaton behind her was now without its head, small flames belching out of where the head used to be as it leaned sideways, tumbling down the platform and landing below with a sickening thud . Uzi raised her weapon, admiring the smoke that came out of the barrel. “Y’know, I had half the mind to shoot you both.” She remarked, her head craning to the side, her smirk now more noticeable. She holstered her pistol, turning back around to Michaels for approval, her breaths heavy, just like the others, but her smirk still as present as ever. Each of the recruits’ bodies ached and begged for respite. N felt lightheaded, and had to brace himself on the railing. He ran a hand through his hair, heavily sighing. Michaels was leaning on the railing, arms crossed, as if unimpressed. Uzi's face fell.

But Uzi had a feeling he was, though.
“Haven't seen a show like that since… Well, ever.” He congratulated. “Next up is bayonet and Hand-to-hand training. Enemy won't give you a shit's worth a’ rest, so we're not giving you it either. Brasch and I will keep watch, and make sure you all don't hurt yourselves too much. But, you have made Super Earth proud thus far. Keep this up, and you'll make great additions to the Helldiver Corps. Down we go." The platform slowly began to move downward, past the corpse of the Automaton, which was now sporadically twitching. Brasch himself was nowhere to be found, as the platform descended further downward into the training facility.
Author's Ramblings: Shit, bootcamp really is fucking our drones up! But they will come out stronger, better, and more PATRIOTIC! FOR SUPER EARTH!
This message has been approved by the Ministry of Truth. Glory to Super Earth.

Hi, folks! I went ahead and got a third consultation for my planned TT, since the quotes for the first two were so far apart and the second recommended 360 lipo, which I wasn't sure if I needed. This last guy has amazing reviews, a wonderful manner and a lower cost for the surgery than the one I was thinking of going with, but he recommends drains, which the first two surgeons don't use unless they are removing a great deal of skin, such as after a gastric bypass. He claims that it reduces swelling after surgery as well as the risk of infection and some side effects. He is older than the other two surgeons, so I wonder if he's a bit old-fashioned. I have seen a lot of folks on here complaining of swelling for a long time after surgery, so I'm wondering if folks who have had drains have had less of an issue with swelling. I'm only 37lbs down from my highest weight, so there's not a ton of loose skin. Can folks around my age (59) and with similar amounts of weight loss speak to the experience of a TT with or without drains?

Had gastric bypass on 2/27/24 after sleeve in 2017, now FINALLY past few times that I have eaten I feel restriction & can only get in about 1/4 of what I had been eating. Anyone else have a new feeling of it thus far out ?

Hi everyone
I had my mini gastric bypass surgery 10 days ago. My doctor put me on puree foods from day 5-9, soft from days 9-17. For dinner i had a frozen cottage pie meal, id say around 2 cups of food, 320 calories. I ate the whole thing with no discomfort.
Is this normal to eat this much?? I fear my stomach is stretched
EDIT : Its an hour later and i think i definitely ate too much. I feel a little ill like i need to throw up. But its still scary how i could put back that much food and only feel a little ill, especially an hour after eating it

I was approved for surgery and was about to have it done on June 4th, today was my last dr appt at the office and they tell me on their system they have me down for a sleeve... after me asking the dr many many times to make sure it was gastric bypass and he sent in sleeve to my insurance, they told me tomorrow morning the dr and manager will call my insurance to try to change it to a bypass before June 4th but if they can't I'll have to wait 14 days again to get it approved and that's even if they approve it, if I can't get it done June 4th I'll have to do everything over again, about 6 months worth of appointments because they expire soon, I'm so upset that he made this mistake AGAIN this is his 2nd time doing this, he keeps putting it in his system as gastric sleeve.
UPDATE: They were able to change it! I get my surgery on the 4th, gastric bypass, thank you all for the support! And for recommending me to call my insurance 🥰❤️ good luck to everyone else with their surgeries, I hope everything works out for ya'll.

I was just diagnosed with Gastroprisis and had another doc take on my case but he thinks I have SIBO and wants more tests saying it’s not GP. Had a GES (gastric emptying scan) that showed delayed gastric emptying which was the reason for the diagnosis. When I was 14-16 I was diagnosed with GERD and IBS after an endoscopy and colonoscopy but they now believe it’s all connected. I’ve had GI problems since birth.
My symptoms are chronic bloating, nausea, constipation, diarrhea, extreme weight loss, loss of appetite, hard time swallowing, vomiting, cramping and pain in stomach area. I do get constant sinus infection which the doctor mentioned are apart of SIBO.
They have me scheduled for another colonoscopy on Friday and if they can’t find anything after that they are going to do the smart pill/capsule endoscopy. I had an endoscopy about a month ago and the finds were polyps, inflammation and a stricter.
Does anyone have any advice for me?

Hi all. I had the sleeve done a year ago as of yesterday and have recently hit my goal weight of 145lb. As far as l'm concerned, l'm done with weight loss and don't want to get smaller. Unfortunately, a recent endoscopy showed me that I have a grade B lesion on my esophagus despite having taken PPIs for the last year.
Because of my family history of bone density issues, my team is thinking a revision would be preferable to taking high dose PPls for the rest of my life I would be really interested in hearing from others who have done a revision to bypass. I have quite a few concerns about it and would love some perspective from others who have gone through this.
One of my main concerns is that, like I said, l've reached a healthy weight (after a ton of hard work!) and I'm not really interested in losing more. Did you lose substantially more weight after the revision? How have your eating patterns and day to day habits changed post revision? One thing I like about the sleeve is that I am able to have a fairly flexible diet (in small portions) and have never had a dumping episode before. Have you had to be more mindful of these things post-revision?
One thing I like about the sleeve is that I am able to have a fairly flexible diet (in small portions) and have never had a dumping episode before. Have you had to be more mindful of these things post-revision? In terms of vitamin intake, what changed? Do you need additional supplement support after converting to bypass? Experienced more malnutrition? My iron is already low because I can't tolerate iron supplements. My team has pretty much just been waiting for it to get low enough that my insurance will cover infusions.
Compared to the gastric sleeve surgery, what was RNY like to recover from? Is it a similar recovery process?
Will be looking forward to any insight you can share with me. Thank you so much

Feel Free put me in the hospital twice during my last week of use due to vomiting, blood pressure, and heart rate.
Some quick details about me, since some of it is a little unique and could help other people with similar attributes:

• I had gastric bypass 12 years ago
• I get all of the side effects from medications and other drugs, due to bypass
• My body is more susceptible to physical addiction, due to bypass
• Liquid based drugs/meds/alcohol hit faster and stronger but the effect is shorter, due to bypass
• Used to abuse alcohol

Usage details:

• I started using FF in December around the holidays
• Quickly ramped up to using 5-6 a day since Feb
• I got caught up into the loop of "I feel like shit on it, I feel worse off of it."
• There were times when I got upwards of 10 a day and one day where I had 16, but most of the time I needed 5-6.
• Never used Kratom or Kava before FF

Quitting Details:

• Moved to Kratom Only using capsules
• The first 3 days, I took as much as I wanted to try and keep withdrawals away which was a mistake and caused side effects like nausea and temperature fluctuations.
• On day 4, I backed off to try and get on a schedule and to see how much I really needed.
• By day 7, I could take 7 g of capsules upon waking up, 7 g before lunch, and 7 g before dinner.
  • If I felt any withdrawals I would take 4 g, if I felt side effects I would back off until I felt withdrawals.
• I have started to taper the Kratom by 1 g of caps per serving, every 1 week
• I am starting week 3 of the taper and have not had any debilitating withdrawal since day 2

Side Effects during ff use:

• Lack of hunger
• Weight loss (35 pounds in 4 months)
• Occasional vomiting from overdosing
• Yellowish and dry skin
• Cracked lips, inner cheek damage, and numbed sense of taste
• Exhausted and sick feeling
• Would crash at night
• Racing heart beat
• Indigestion
• General malaise
• Rare Brain Zaps/Exploding Head Syndrome (would get this when I took SNRIs, combatted by starting to take SNRI again)

Side Effects during quitting ff using Kratom (Day 1-4):

• Body temperature fluctuations
• Cold sweats
• Mild headache
• General malaise
• Sweating after eating
• Brain Zaps/Exploding Head Syndrome in the middle of the night (every night)

Side Effects post FF with Kratom Only (Day 5 to Current):

• Rare body temperature fluctuations and sweating
• Occasional Brain Zaps/Exploding Head Syndrome middle of the night
• Occasional nausea from overdosing
• My skin is flaking off still, but looking so much better.

Other Notes:

• I feel a million times better, my quality of life is SIGNIFICANTLY BETTER
• I thought I was going to die during my last 2 days of ff use
• Kratom caps are way cheaper
• I can function perfectly well at work and as a parent and probably could have during day 1-3, if I had not taken using ff to the brink of death and if I had switched to Kratom earlier, do it ASAP.
• I was already in a ff taper trying to quit when my health took a turn and my usage bumped back up on the last 3 days trying to fix the sick with more ff.
• My taste has returned to normal
• I could eat normal again with 5 days of quitting, magnesium seemed to help
• I did 2 weeks of Prilosec starting day 5
• Join kratom and quittingkratom to learn about this beast and how to get off of it as well

Best of luck to anyone trying to quit, find a way to get off of FF as soon as you can. I plan to continue to taper off of Kratom and then taper off of the SNRI. If you have any questions or clarifications please ask here.

TLDR:
Above an IV site in the crook of my arm I have large lump on my bicep that hasn't gone down in 2 days and is still pretty sore. Should I be worried, and is there something I can do to make it go down?
Long version:
None of the following probably matters when it comes to my question, but I'll add it just in case:
60f with chronic anemia as a result of gastric bypass, but after hammering my iron supplement I brought it up to 9.6 g/dL in a month. But I had a endoscopy and colonoscopy with biopsies on the 22nd just to make sure there wasn't another reason for my anemia. Everything looked fine so it was confirmed that the anemia is a result on the bypass.
The day after the procedure I vomited some blood and then my body spiraled. Long story short, I ended up in the ER becasue I was too exhausted to even hold my head up and my pulse reach 145. My hemoglobin dropped to 7.3 g/dL overnight.
I was also really dehydrated, and after several blown-out IV's, they had to use ultrasound to finally get an IV in the crook of my left arm. I was admitted for two nights and I received intravenous saline, antibiotics, protonix(sic), and iron.
I was released day before yesterday and I noticed my bicep was sore above the IV site, but I didn't notice the large, firm lump/swelling on my bicep until I got home. It starts about 3/4" above the injection site and it's about 4" long and 2.5" wide with defined margins, and it hasn't gone down at all.
Is this concerning and do I need to try and be seen, or is there something I can do at home to help resolve it?

Gastric sleeve surgery, also known as sleeve gastrectomy, is a widely performed weight-loss procedure that involves the removal of a large portion of the stomach, resulting in a tube-like structure. This surgical intervention effectively reduces the stomach's capacity, leading to early satiety and decreased food intake. However, individuals contemplating this procedure often inquire about its reversibility.
The irreversible nature of gastric sleeves should be noted. Unlike adjustable gastric bands that can be removed or gastric bypass surgeries that may be revised, sleeve gastrectomy involves the permanent removal of approximately 75-80% of the stomach. This permanent alteration makes the procedure irreversible.
Anatomical Changes: Gastric sleeve surgery permanently changes the stomach's anatomy by removing a portion that cannot be regenerated or replaced.
Purpose of the Procedure: The main objective of a gastric sleeve is to create a smaller stomach that aids in portion control and reduces hunger hormones like ghrelin, leading to long-term weight loss.
Considerations for Patients: Due to the permanent nature of gastric sleeve surgery, it is essential for patients to fully comprehend the implications before proceeding. Thorough pre-surgical evaluations and consultations with healthcare providers are crucial to ensure the decision is appropriate.
Post-Surgery Adaptation: Patients are required to make significant lifestyle changes after surgery, including dietary modifications, regular physical activity, and possibly lifelong nutritional supplementation. These changes are lifelong commitments due to the irreversible nature of the surgery.
Revisions and Alternatives: Although the sleeve itself cannot be reversed, some patients may require additional surgeries in case of complications or inadequate weight loss. In certain situations, a sleeve gastrectomy can be converted to a different type of bariatric surgery, such as a gastric bypass.
Conclusion: Gastric sleeve surgery is an effective weight-loss procedure with permanent effects. Patients must be well-informed and ready for the lasting changes to their anatomy and lifestyle. Consulting with medical professionals and carefully considering all options and implications are essential steps before opting for this surgery.

About 2 weeks ago, I woke up at 5 am in such excruciating pain I could not do anything but lie on the floor and vomit. My husband called an ambulance.
After a CT scan I learned that I had an intussusception at my staple line of my gastric bypass and a bowel blockage was forming. I also had gallbladder hydrops.
I was given this absolutely nasty drink that pushed everything through me and moved that section of bowel back into place. I pretty narrowly avoided surgery but still spent a few days in the hospital.
I spoke with my bariatric surgeon who explained that he also would air on the side of leaving it alone, as risk of future adhesion jumps when opening the same area. However, it could happen again and I'm at much higher risk of perforation.
I need the gallbladder out regardless, and I'm completely torn about this. If I have the staple line redone I would be on a liquid diet for a while and probably need a J tube for a while.

I have my consult coming up at the end of June. I had some questions. Which weight do they use as the starting weight? I went in originally for an upper scope and because of my GERD they recommended gastric bypass (I got weighed then). I am concerned with the fact that I recovered from an ED and went a long time not knowing my weight. Now it is a constant reminder. Along with, I know it is insurance dependent etc, how long after the consult did people get their surgery?

I am 21 years old and I realised two years ago that my mother is toxic, (likely narcissism with some aspd) when I had turned my sleep schedule upside down (staying up all night and sleeping all day) it was during this time I for the first time realised in a non drunken or otherwise influenced state that my mother is a horrible human being. I guess my inner child viewed the overnight gaming binges as a safe space to come out or I finally felt strong enough to stand up for myself even though I’ve tried to run from home two times in my childhood, I did not remember those attempts at the time but one thing I did know, I deeply dislike my mother. Time went on and with this newfound consciousness I both saw her and her absolutely disgusting behaviour, seeking attention by appearing as a sexual assault victim to her own children, while at the same time my own creativity exploded in abundance. I was inspired like never before to create, as with my realisation of who she was I also rejected the view of myself she had given me. In my childhood she gave me everything I never wanted, she gave me the clown role when I was intellectual and had important things to say, the evil insensitive person when I am highly sensitive and love expressing myself through art and writing, the dumb one when I am the one who has a gifted IQ. She gave me everything that was in opposition to who I was, all the while appearing as the depressed victim that I had to fix. All of these things combined has resulted in me feeling like I have lived in a dream all of my life. In some kind of fantasy space driven by my natural love and compassion for my mother and her manipulation. Here are some examples of her behaviours: Me, 16, can I borrow money? “We are not a fucking bank” I feel ashamed, spoiled and worthless.
I make a joke, typical of my clown role by jumping into a pile of snow. “You are stupid”
I made toast at night, choosing the toaster instead of the microwave as to not disturb her who is sleeping in the kitchen, crumbs fall down and burn and even though I never burn food: “What did you burn now?” She says as if I am the biggest burden in the world.
I had written a short story at 11 years old and I hand it to her for feedback. I get it back and almost every single word is underscored with red. I started to write horribly after this, and only recovered my skill in it due to luck.
I hug her after a traumatic event and she smirks at me, making me feel stupid and tiny in my time of vulnerability.
I am angry at her and she again smirks at me, making me feel like she enjoys hurting me and has no intention of change.
She smirked at my sisters expressed financial issues, and made sure to rub it in.
She demeans my father, mocking his artistic achievements as if it is obvious how insensitive and evil he is. (My father is also gifted and sensitive and I love him.)
I could go on about all the things, us siblings being played against each other, me being guilt tripped for being depressed “you drag everyone down with you”. How she tried to stonewall me into not making her pay money even though she legally had to, how she neglected me and my brother as children when we were suffering immensely from a stomach bug. How my father somehow calms down when she is not around. She reads gossip magazines, shares personal information about me without asking. Minimises my problems, gets jealous of my potential partners. Plays wordfeud instead of watching a movie with the family, how the reason behind her failure to become a teacher was the rudeness of her child pupils. How she needed a gastric bypass surgery to lose weight and not change her ways. How she always makes me feel guilty when I try to fix things with her, how she just blatantly lies and rejects the truth and gaslights. Even if two family members see her do something she might still try to gaslight us saying we are misinterpreting things.
Despite all of this I still feel like I am the narcissist? Just for leaving and trying to live my life. I know it’s impossible, it is so obvious but a tiny child within me just won’t let go. A tiny child within me still longs for a happy mother and a healthy family, and I am still wondering, if there is a cure? We have found cures for seemingly untreatable conditions before, why wouldn’t we now? All my life I’ve been told I’m supersmart by teachers and peers, what if I find it if I just apply myself a bit harder? I see soo many potential treatment methods. I just won’t give her up and it is killing me. Other experiences? Is there any hope or should I just leave it and focus on my life? And if so, how do you all deal with that horrible inner critic? The depression too…. And the self esteem?

Hello! Just to give my backstory: I’m 32F and have been on MJ/Zep since Feb 2023. It’s changed my life and I was willing to literally pay the price. My insurance never covered a dime, I relied on Care Credit and splitting 15 pens (not recommended, I know- but it’s what I had to do). It was “affordable” at first but as I moved up in doses, obviously it was $500 a month vs every 2-3. I’m at my goal weight, honestly I’d like to lose 5 more to account for hormonal changes/fluctuates and just feel a little more secure. My SW was 263, CW 150 and I’ve been here for about a month.
Anyway, I’ve been spreading my 15 pens about 10 days to hopefully get ready to maintain but I’m not ready to quit completely. I’m a life long emotional, binge eater and the summer is the worst time for me. I’m a mom of 2, lonely, and in the trenches of motherhood. We don’t do much in the summer because it’s so hot in the south, and the economy is just crap so everything is so damn expensive. I always find myself eating more in the summer because we’re just home and I hate it. I had gastric bypass in 2011 and that physically stopped me from eating, but this medicine has “fixed my brain” and helped me live to eat, not eat to live.
I just signed up with Orderly and requested the comparable dose Semaglutide. I know many have had more success and studies have shown tirzepatide to have higher weight loss, but for maintenance reasons, I’m hoping it’ll help just quiet the food noise for me. I exercise 7 days and week and my entire family has really shifted our habits and a genuinely eating healthier. My problem is that I feel like I need to graze or emotional eat. Even if it’s healthier… it’s still calories and I feel crappy after.
Has anyone switched to help maintain, and still had a positive experience? I just can’t continue to spend the money on tirzepatide, it’s almost double the cost.

I got my gastric bypass surgery back in 2019 due to my diabetes and blood pressure being out of control. I was able to help both immediately after surgery and fully appreciate those benefits.
However, I am now having issues as a result of the bypass I don’t feel were discussed enough during my education pre-surgery. I now have Exogenic Pancreatic Insufficiency and have to take enzymes with anything I eat for the rest of my life. I also have cysts in my liver (can’t prove it was surgery but never had issues prior). My surgeon also told me I didn’t need acid reflux medication any longer. As a result, my Eosinophillic Esophagitis has returned with a vengeance. I am now on strong acid medication trying to put this in remission.
I would really weigh all of the post surgery complications you can get from this surgery. I also wish Ozempic would have been around before I got this. Just wanted to share my experience.

I have never posted here, or anywhere, honestly, but I just don’t know what to do. I (45F) grew up in a divorced household with an alcoholic father. My first husband had issues with alcohol, too, which led to an affair and end in the marriage. I have now been married to my second husband ((49M) for 13 years. He has never been much of a drinker while we have been married, though used to make beer with his brother and dad many years ago (before me). Just about 1.5 years ago, he had gastric bypass. About 9 months ago, he started to occasionally drink whisky that turned into every weekend whisky. I didn’t say anything at first, but I started to have anxiety immediately just because of the alcohol. I have no doubt he picked up on it. It got to the point where we were arguing about it on a regular basis. I definitely didn’t like him doing it at all, and he told me I was being too sensitive because he’s allowed to have a few drinks to relax if he wants and always denied it is a problem. I then told him he could drink whenever he wanted but not in front of the kids because they didn’t need to see him drunk and it bothers me so much that I didn’t want to see it either. I also said I would not allow secret drinking as I still wanted to know he was doing it so I wouldn’t be surprised about the spending or anything. He could wait until after we went to bed (the kids are still young) or when we aren’t home. The next morning, he ended up breaking every other liquor bottle in the house and that was the end of it for about 5 months. About 2 months ago, a friend of his came to visit and they had some drinks. Since then, he has been buying cheap whiskey again almost every weekend. How do I even begin to fight this when every ounce of my body just wants to pick up the kids and run? How do I even begin? I’m lying in bed next to him with the smell of whiskey on his breath and tears streaming down my face. Even mentioning it will cause an argument. Am I really just so sensitive that I’m making him worse? If so, how do I ignore it when even a bottle on the counter makes me shake?