This GI Nurse Quit Hospital Work After 22 Years—And What She Says About Standard Constipation Treatments Changes Everything

Sandra Foster should be doubled over in pain right now. She’s wearing her daughter’s wedding dress to the fitting instead.

If you’ve been taking Miralax every day for weeks but still feel like concrete is sitting in your gut…

If you’ve spent hundreds on fiber gummies, probiotics, and “gut health” supplements but can’t button your pants by noon…

If you’ve done everything your doctor recommended but you’re still bloated, backed up, and burping sulfur every time you open your mouth…

Then what a GI nurse discovered after leaving hospital work could save your digestion—and your sanity.

There’s a hidden problem affecting the majority of women on Ozempic, Wegovy, and Mounjaro right now.

It’s causing them to stay constipated while their laxative bottles sit empty in the cabinet—not because the laxatives don’t work, but because they’re working on the wrong part of the digestive system entirely.

And here’s the part that makes gastroenterologists uncomfortable: The treatments you’ve been told to take are treating your colon. But your problem starts in your stomach.

I’m talking about what researchers call “medication-induced gastroparesis”—but patients experience it more simply: that feeling like you swallowed a bag of wet cement… from the salmon you ate 18 hours ago that still hasn’t moved.

It’s the reason you can drink an entire bottle of Miralax over a weekend and nothing happens. The reason fiber supplements make you feel worse, not better.

But this isn’t about the laxatives being ineffective.

This is about your stomach being asleep—and your colon never getting the signal that food is coming.

A Nurse Who Refused to Accept “That’s Just How These Drugs Work”

Karen Mitchell had spent 22 years as a GI nurse in Philadelphia. Thousands of patients. Every complication you could imagine.

But in the past three years, she started seeing something different.

Women would come in—successful, put-together women in their 50s and 60s—crying in the exam room. Not because of a disease. Because of the medication that was supposed to change their lives.

“They’d lost 40, 50, 60 pounds. They looked amazing. And they were miserable. Bloated. Constipated. Burping these horrible sulfur burps that smelled like rotten eggs. Some hadn’t had a bowel movement in 11 days.”

The standard advice? Take Miralax. Drink more water. Add fiber.

“That’s just how these drugs work,” her colleagues said. “The constipation is a trade-off for the weight loss.”

Karen accepted that. Until Sandra Reeves.

Sandra was 58. Four months on Wegovy. Down 47 pounds. And she was seriously considering quitting the medication entirely.

“I haven’t gone to the bathroom in eight days. I’ve taken Miralax every single day. Colace twice a day. I tried Smooth Move tea. I tried mag citrate. Nothing.”

She started crying.

“I did an enema and nothing came out. I’m scared something is seriously wrong. But I can’t tell my doctor because she’ll take me off the medication. And I can’t go back to the hunger. I just can’t.”

Karen had heard versions of this story dozens of times. But something about Sandra’s case bothered her.

“You’ve taken laxatives every day for how long?”

“Six weeks. Maybe longer.”

“And nothing?”

“Sometimes rabbit pellets. But the fullness never goes away. I wake up and last night’s dinner is still sitting right here.”

Sandra pressed her hand against her upper stomach. Like a brick.

Karen noted something. The fullness wasn’t in Sandra’s lower abdomen, where backed-up stool would typically cause discomfort. It was higher. Stomach level.

That night, Karen couldn’t stop thinking about it.

What I Found After Leaving the Hospital Changed Everything I Thought I Knew

Karen had recently transitioned out of hospital work. Too many 12-hour shifts. Too many patients she couldn’t actually help. She’d started consulting privately, helping women navigate GI issues that their doctors dismissed as “just side effects.”

But Sandra’s case haunted her.

“I kept thinking—why would laxatives not work? Laxatives work on the colon. They draw water into the large intestine, soften the stool, stimulate movement. They work. Unless…”

Unless the problem wasn’t in the colon at all.

Karen started digging through medical literature. Not looking for new treatments—looking for why the standard treatments were failing.

She found a 2023 study from a gastroenterology research group. They’d examined gastric emptying rates in patients taking GLP-1 receptor agonists.

The findings were stark.

In some patients, the medication didn’t just “slow” gastric emptying. It nearly stopped it. Food that should leave the stomach in 2–4 hours was sitting there for 12, 18, sometimes 24+ hours.

The stomach wasn’t just full. It was paralyzed.

Karen sat staring at her screen.

This whole time, she’d been watching doctors treat the wrong end of the problem.

The colon wasn’t backed up because of sluggish bowels. The colon was backed up because nothing was arriving from the stomach. The conveyor belt had stopped at the entrance—and everyone was trying to force open the exit door.

What One Study Revealed at 2 AM

Karen couldn’t sleep. She searched medical databases for anything about GLP-1 medications, gastric motility, laxative resistance.

At 2 AM, she found a gastroenterology review paper that made her sit up straight.

The researchers had tracked why standard constipation treatments failed in patients with delayed gastric emptying.

Here’s what happens when you take a laxative:

The researchers noted: “Standard osmotic laxatives showed significantly reduced efficacy in patients with documented gastroparesis. The issue was not colonic dysfunction but delayed delivery of the therapeutic agent to the target tissue.”

Karen did the math.

Sandra had been taking Miralax every day for six weeks.

But if her stomach wasn’t emptying properly, the Miralax was sitting in her stomach—pooling with undigested food, diluting, never reaching her colon in therapeutic concentrations.

No wonder it wasn’t working.

Sandra’s colon was fine. Her stomach was asleep.

Your Laxative Can’t Fix What It Can’t Reach

Karen called Sandra the next week.

“I need to explain something to you. When you take Miralax, it has to pass through your stomach first. Your stomach is supposed to empty it into your intestines within a few hours. But these medications slow that process way down. In some people, way, way down.”

“So the Miralax you’re taking? It might be sitting in your stomach for most of the day. By the time it gets to your colon—if it gets there—it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

“But my doctor said to take more fiber—”

“Fiber is even worse. Fiber adds bulk. If your stomach can’t empty, you’re just adding more volume to a system that’s already backed up. That’s why you feel more bloated after taking fiber supplements, not less.”

Sandra’s voice cracked. “So everything I’ve been doing…”

“Has been treating your colon. But your colon isn’t the problem. Your stomach is.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Just suffer?”

What Gastroenterologists Know But Rarely Explain

Karen had started connecting with other GI nurses and practitioners who’d left traditional hospital work. A small network of people frustrated by the same patterns—watching patients suffer while doctors prescribed the same ineffective treatments.

One of them, a former gastroenterology PA named Rachel, had been researching prokinetic compounds. Not laxatives. Not fiber. Substances that actually stimulate stomach motility—that wake up the muscles of the stomach itself.

“Karen, you’re treating the exit door. The problem is the entrance. These women need something that gets the stomach moving again. Something that works upstream, not downstream.”

“Like what? Reglan?”

“Reglan works, but the side effects are brutal. Tardive dyskinesia. Depression. Most doctors won’t prescribe it long-term. But there are natural compounds that do something similar. Gentler. They’ve been used for centuries for digestive sluggishness.”

Rachel mentioned celery. Specifically, a compound in celery called apigenin.

“Apigenin has mild prokinetic properties. It doesn’t force the stomach to contract—it supports the natural rhythm. Like physical therapy for the gut instead of a cattle prod.”

Karen was skeptical. “Celery? Really?”

“Concentrated celery. Not a stalk with your salad. Therapeutic amounts. Combined with something to address the gas buildup—chlorophyll works as an internal deodorizer—and a gentle fiber that doesn’t add bulk. Soluble, not insoluble.”

Karen had never heard anyone explain digestive support this way. Upstream versus downstream. Stomach versus colon. Prokinetic versus purgative.

It made sense. For the first time in months, something actually made sense.

“I Can’t Officially Recommend This. But If I Were You, I’d Want to Know.”

Karen found a company making a concentrated celery-based gummy specifically formulated for women on GLP-1 medications. The formula included celery juice powder, chlorophyll for gas neutralization, and FOS prebiotic fiber—a soluble fiber that softens without adding bulk.

She called Sandra.

“I can’t officially recommend this. I’m not your doctor. But if I were dealing with what you’re dealing with, I’d want to know it exists.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a gummy. Concentrated celery juice, chlorophyll, gentle prebiotic fiber. Works on the stomach—upstream—not just the colon.”

Sandra laughed. “A gummy. Karen, I’ve tried everything. Prescription laxatives. Enemas. I’ve spent probably $600 on supplements. You’re telling me a gummy is going to help?”

“I’m telling you everything you’ve tried works on your colon. This works on your stomach. Different target. Different mechanism.”

Sandra was quiet for a long moment.

“What’s it called?”

“Motilli.”

What Actually Happens When You Wake Up Your Stomach

Sandra was skeptical. Of course she was. She’d been burned too many times.

She ordered a bottle. Left it on her counter for four days. Looked at it every morning while drinking her coffee and feeling that familiar brick in her gut.

Day five, she tried it. Just one gummy.

“I figured, what’s the worst that happens? I’m already miserable.”

“I actually cried,” Sandra told Karen later. “I sat on the toilet and cried because I’d forgotten what normal felt like.”

Sandra hesitated when her doctor asked. “I started taking something for motility. Works on the stomach, not the colon.”

Her doctor raised an eyebrow. Sandra told her. The doctor didn’t officially endorse it. But she didn’t tell Sandra to stop.

“If it’s working,” she said, “I’m not going to argue with results.”

Why Your Doctor Will Never Mention This

Karen tried to share what she’d learned with colleagues still working in hospital GI units.

The response was lukewarm at best.

One former coworker told her:

“Karen, we can’t recommend supplements. We can only recommend FDA-approved treatments.”

“Even when the FDA-approved treatments don’t work?”

“We recommend them anyway. That’s the protocol.”

Karen understood. She’d lived inside that system for 22 years. But she also knew what she’d seen: women suffering unnecessarily because the standard treatments were targeting the wrong part of their digestive system.

GLP-1 medications generate billions in annual revenue. Laxatives generate billions more. The system isn’t designed to ask why treatments aren’t working. It’s designed to prescribe the next thing on the list.

But Karen wasn’t in that system anymore.

She started telling every woman who asked. Word spread quietly—through online support groups, through whispered recommendations in waiting rooms, through women who finally found relief after months of suffering.

Your Constipation Isn’t “Just a Side Effect”—Your Treatments Are Targeting the Wrong Problem

Here’s what Karen wants you to understand:

Laxatives work on your colon. Fiber works on your colon. Stool softeners work on your colon.

But GLP-1 medications slow your stomach.

If your stomach is paralyzed, your colon isn’t the problem. Treating your colon won’t fix it. You need something that works upstream—something that supports gastric motility, not colonic motility.

Sandra chose to try it. The brick dissolved. The burps stopped. She went to her daughter’s wedding feeling like herself for the first time in months.

Your stomach is asleep. Time to wake it up.

Don’t Believe Us? Here’s What Others Are Saying: