sick

I have, not too put to fine a point on it, being suffering recently from dodgy guts. I will try and avoid any unpleasant details, but feel it is only fair to warn you that my squeam threshold is quite high.


Now, I can normally throw practically anything at my digestive system and it will be quickly and efficiently dealt with. I do have a reputation for a little socially questionable ‘gassing off’, and I would have to admit that my diet, while not exactly conventional, is also not hugely wide ranging. I have been described as fussy, but that’s mothers for you. But, for my part, I have no complaints.


This summer, though, I have had two incidents of disturbance. And not your average five pints and a curry disturbance, but full on gastric insurrection. Complete with incapacitation, violent purging, weight loss and ‘oh shit, why is that so yellow?’ moments. Like Peter Crouch, nothing for ages, then loads at once.


I could, fashionably, put this down to a number of possible causes.

1. Stress. I mean, modern life is so hard. Time for a two week yoga break on Pathos.
2. Not eating the right food. I should obviously start eating wheat grass and eliminate all other wheat products.
3. A build up of tension in my bowels. I should pay a therapist lots of money to clear my chakras, or (resists urge to insert crass pun).
4. Despite the opinion of two NHS doctors, I am actually very, very ill, and must immediately seek the attentions of a private healthy care specialist.

Alternatively, I could just remember to wash my hands more at festivals, and urge everyone else to do the same. Oh, and stay off the cider.