Everyone asked how much I'd lost.
Nobody asked how I was feeling.

“You must feel amazing.”

I smiled.

Under my desk, I'd loosened my waistband. My lunch was still unopened.

My clothes were getting smaller. But lunch still felt like something I had to get through.

I didn't want to complain.
I wanted to feel normal.

Before work, I'd sit in the bathroom and wait. Then I'd get up, put on my loosest pants and head out.

At dinner, I'd eat a few bites, then push the plate away. I wanted to stay and talk. I just felt too full.

After a while, I stopped looking forward to meals. I started wondering how I'd feel afterward.

I wanted the progress.
I wanted to enjoy my life, too.

I'd heard “more fiber.”
I'd heard everything.

Drink more water. Walk after meals. Eat more fiber. Take your vitamins. I'd tried most of it, and I forgot the rest by Wednesday.

My doctor was happy with my progress. I didn't want to complain about the rest. So I kept quiet and kept planning my day around my stomach.

Then a coworker caught me pushing my lunch around. “Have you tried Saha?” she asked. “I add it to my water every morning.” That night I read the label on my phone.

The label read like a list
I could understand.

Fiber. Sodium, potassium and magnesium. B vitamins. Ginger.

I'd been buying ginger chews for my queasy mornings. I'd been getting through afternoons on coffee. Here it was, all in one stick.

I looked up the fiber, PHGG, and read a few of the studies. It's gentle, and it dissolves in water. That was enough for me to want to try it.

I ordered it that night.

I'd been let down by supplements before, so I picked Orange, the flavor that sounded least like medicine. I showed the label to my clinician first, then went with the one-month pack to try it.

I could pause or cancel anytime, and there was a 60-day guarantee. That's what got me to hit order.

The free shaker showed up a few days later. I left it next to the kettle so I'd see it in the morning.

I could finish this one.

The next morning I tore a stick, poured it into 8 oz of cold water and shook it. It tasted like orange, not medicine. I finished it before my toast was done.

That mattered. A big shake can feel like homework. This was one small glass, and I finished it.

The small things came first.

Around day four, I went in the morning without waiting. I didn't sit there. I didn't think about it afterward, either. That was the part that got me. I wasn't thinking about it.

By week two, my stomach wasn't tight by noon. I stopped checking whether my waistband was digging in. The afternoon slump was still there, but it wasn't as heavy, and I wasn't reaching for a third coffee.

I'd had queasy mornings for months. They got quieter. Not gone every single day. Quieter.

By week four, it felt like me again.

A coworker asked if I wanted to grab lunch. It was a Tuesday. I said yes without doing the math on how I'd feel afterward. I ate the whole meal. I stayed at the table and finished the conversation. Nothing felt tight. Nothing felt off.

On the walk back, I realized I hadn't thought about my stomach once all morning. I'd been planning around it for months. I didn't know how much room it was taking up until it stopped.

I'm lighter, but not on the scale. I'm lighter in how I move through a day. I put on jeans and don't have to loosen them under my desk. I say yes to dinner. I keep a stick in my bag, just in case.

I wanted the progress.
I also wanted to enjoy my life.

If you're weighing it up.

I'm not saying it's for everyone, and it isn't a medicine or a GLP-1. It didn't change my appetite. It made the rest of me feel better while my medication did its job.

I could try it for 60 days with a guarantee. That's the only reason I took the first step. If you're tired of planning your day around your stomach, I'd try it.

Here's what I ordered.