In the past three weeks hardly a day has gone by where I don't feel like my stomach is trying to kill me. The varieties of pain and discomfort are in some ways astonishing--I swear I just saw my stomach ripple, like an alien was trying to get out. About 75% of the meals I consume make me sick in about half an hour, regardless of their ingredients. I swear I could eat snowpeas raised on evian water tended by people in hazmat suits in sterile greenhouses in sweden right now and still get sick.
Luckily my stomach's suicidal tendencies are remarkably un-symptomatic. I hung around with horses too much as a kid and somehow inherited their inability to throw up, so as soon as I start feeling nauseous and dizzy I go lie down on my bed and fantasize about how wonderful it would be to lean slightly to the left and upchuck the entire meal I just ate. As I lie there in unexplained agony my thoughts inevitably turn to potential reasons I feel like death: parasites and food poisoning and a bad reaction to malaria pills and ebola virus and our kitten (didn't a sick kitten kill that guy in Trainspotting?). In spite of my short-lived hypochondria in about 10 to 120 minutes I feel okay enough to walk around again.
Despite my obvious inability to handle just about anything edible I'm not letting it affect what I eat. All of this is just building character (thanks, Calvin's dad)! If I keep suffering through this I will only get STRONGER (leading to an eventual intestinal invincibility, obviously). Surely it must just be a lack of practice on my part? Growing up eating nothing but pasta and white bread until I was 17 years old? Bring me the barbecued goat from stands on the street! Pile on the mysterious sloppy greens! Feed me more slightly raw chicken! Crickets, you say? Snails, and vegetables I've never heard of? BRING IT ON.
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How are you feeling today Nuala?
ReplyDeleteHi Nuala,
ReplyDeleteThey say it's good to suffer and as you say - builds character - why is it that comments like that never seem comforting at the time?
All the family are following your exploits from the UK. Wish your Mom had been able to blog when she was in Jamaica in the 1970s - we had to wait for snail mail to arrive.
Keep smiling through. I'm making sure Grandad gets to access the blog.
Big Huggs
Chris & Graham
If you're shopping at a store that sells fix, no wonder you're getting sick. That's a photo store, not a supermarket! And way to reference C&H- that's how I learned that photos are in b/w because the world wasn't in color yet back then.
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