Bloating, Burps, and a Shocking Diagnosis: My Health Kick Begins Here

If you asked me a year ago if I was “healthy,” I would’ve given you a confident, “Of course!” But the truth is, the definition of health has changed for me over the years. It wasn’t until my body started loudly reminding me that I can’t party till 6am and drink my bodyweight in prosecco without consequences that I realised… maybe I need to take this whole “being healthy” thing a bit more seriously. So, here we are – I’m officially swapping tequila shots for ginger shots, and I’m ready to make this health kick something real. Let’s dive into how I got here and why it’s time for a major change.

I’ve always told myself I was a “healthy person.” I mean, who doesn’t like to think that? But the truth is, health has meant different things to me at different stages of my life. As a teenager, I danced 2-3 times a week, and as far as I was concerned, that was more than enough to earn me the right to eat pizza, chicken nuggets and whatever sugary concoction I could get my hands on. My liquid intake was technically varied—WKD, vodka, and the occasional fresh orange juice (which, spoiler alert, is not as good for you as I thought).

In my late teens and early twenties, I swapped dancing for the gym—though, let’s be real, I was mostly there to scope out cute rugby lads while doing the bare minimum on the treadmill. Despite this, I was at my skinniest (likely thanks to teenage stress and a metabolism that worked harder than my actual workouts).

Then came my mid-twenties. My “womanly body” arrived, and suddenly, looking at a burger felt like it added inches to my thighs. But instead of actually getting healthy, I just starved myself to fit into my Saturday night dress, making up for the calorie deficit by inhaling cheesy chips at 3 a.m. Revolutionary, right?

But the truth was, I wasn’t addressing the root of the issue—I wasn’t taking care of my body at all. I was a picky eater, living on processed foods, and had zero clue how to nurture myself properly.

And that's when things took a turn. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had stomach pain. I just thought it was part of life. It’s one of those things that affected my days—getting me out of school as a kid, and later getting me out of work as an adult. Over the years, I saw every doctor under the sun. The consensus? IBS. That was the diagnosis everyone seemed happy with. But as time went on, I started to question why mine was so much worse than others I knew with IBS. The bloating? Ridiculous. The pain? Unbearable. And those flare-ups? Well, they’ve left me looking about eight months pregnant, which isn’t ideal when you’re just trying to carry on with your life like a normal person. And don’t even get me started on my inability to burp. Imagine downing two bottles of Prosecco,only for your throat to sound like a balloon slowly deflating. Talk about airing your grievances in the most embarrassing way possible.

But then, things got interesting—well, at least interesting in a “this is like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, except it’s my actual life” kind of way. During a routine scan, the sonographer found something a little… unexpected. I have a condition called situs inversus, which means my organs are on the wrong side of my body. Apparently, only 0.001% of people in the UK have it. It’s not life-threatening, but it does come with some major side effects, like chronic pain, digestive issues, and, yes, a totally embarrassing inability to burp.

And here’s the kicker: people with situs inversus have a 95% chance of developing heart disease. So, while I’m trying to process the fact that I’ve made it this far without anyone noticing that my organs are like a jigsaw puzzle gone wrong, I’m now dealing with a health condition that could seriously affect my future. It’s the kind of thing that makes you rethink everything. Those nights I stayed out until 6 a.m., drinking my body weight in alcohol? Maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t the best idea after all.

But here’s the thing—I can’t change what I’ve done in the past. I can’t undo the late nights, the unhealthy habits, or the many “I’ll start tomorrow” moments. But I can change how I move forward. It’s time for a reset. Time to stop treating my body like a party accessory and start giving it what it really deserves: proper care, real nutrition, and exercise that actually serves me.

So this is where the real health kick begins. No more quick fixes. No more excuses. No more pretending that a gym trip once every two months is doing anything to help. It's time to commit to real, sustainable change. So I’m swapping tequila shots for ginger shots, late-night takeaways for proper meals, and splits on the dancefloor for Pilates lunges.

If you’ve been living in denial about your health, or if you’ve had that same “I’ll start tomorrow” mentality, come along with me. Let’s take this journey together—one day at a time, one small change at a time.

It’s time to take care of ourselves properly. No more fads. No more “I’ll start Monday” moments. It’s time to put in the work—and I’m ready. Are you?