In November 2022, I travelled to Istanbul, Turkey, for Gastric Sleeve Surgery, hopeful for a new beginning. But from the moment I woke up, I knew something was dreadfully wrong. The pain was beyond anything I'd ever experienced, and I already live with chronic pain. I immediately told my rep and nurse, who dismissed my concerns, blaming the pain on gas from the laparoscopic procedure and urging me to walk it off. As a wheelchair user, I managed only a few agonizing steps with a walker, but my body, already frail from pre-existing conditions, surgery pain, and increasing weakness, couldn't endure more. I repeatedly told my nurse about the excruciating pain and my inability to drink water, but my pleas were ignored. They discharged me from the hospital and sent me to a hotel, where I continued to contact my rep via WhatsApp, desperate for help. Despite my constant messages about the pain, she kept advising me to drink more and assured me she would pray for me. She promised to inform my surgeon, but I never received a response or any medical advice. In fact, I never got to speak to my surgeon again. Back home, my GP's alarmed call came swiftly after my blood test results. 'You need to go to hospital immediately' In hospital i had a series of tests, including a CT scan, revealing the devastating truth: I had a leak at the gastro-oesophageal junction due to over stapling. My new stomach, poorly cut, had twisted on itself, creating unbearable pressure that kept a hole in my oesophagus open. The representative's neglect had dire consequences. Every drink I took seeped through that hole into my body cavity, leading to severe sepsis. Since the operation, I haven't eaten. An NJ feeding tube now delivers nutrients directly to my upper bowel for 12 hours a day. Since December 2022, I've battled sepsis four times, spending 88 harrowing days in the hospital. I've been nil by mouth for over an entire year. Remnants of sepsis cling to my spleen and diaphragm, pressing painfully against my left lung and causing a partial collapse. Every day is a torment. Morphine six times daily only dulls the pain, but it never truly fades. My husband is my constant caretaker, tirelessly tending to my every need, seven days a week. Hope re-emerged a few months ago when Professor Rishi Singhal reached out, confident he could help me eat again. After multiple trips to Birmingham, numerous tests, and a week as an inpatient, I finally have surgery scheduled for July 26, 2024. Professor Singhal will perform a full bypass and Hiatal Hernia repair, potentially allowing me to eat and drink once more. The surgery is fraught with risks, including possible abandonment and life-threatening complications, but I have unwavering faith in Professor Singhal and his team.