Let’s Get Scatalogical

Hi guys and gals and everything in between or outwith. Apologies to the squeamish ones reading this, it might not be your cup of pepto bismol.

Well I ended up going to Edinburgh with my parents, and I decided to stay until Friday while they went home on Wednesday. It was a good but uneventful couple of days; did some work, watched some Parks and Rec, met my friend for lunch, had my hair cut short etc. Then I decided to get Chinese on Thursday night- now this is an official warning, what you are about to read is disgusting (I mean still read it but don’t sue me for your therapy bills).

After thinking I had a bad IBS reaction to the Chinese (the food not the people) I had a stomach the size of a beach ball and as heavy as a bowling ball. I did what I usually do, took an indigestion tablet and tried to sleep, but around 2:30am vomiting of the projectile variety happened. If anyone was keeping track, I no longer eat prawn toast or salt and pepper chicken…which the bathroom still smells of.

After throwing up what can only be described as a khaki smoothie-looking substance for about 5 mins… then coughing up either a tonsil or a bit of chicken… and then a burst blood vessel, I thought that was the end of it, drank some juice and went to sleep.

But no, oh no– that was not the end of it.

2 hours later I woke up and had liquid expel itself from my body in another way. This happened periodically until I was in pain/hungry/thirsty/tired/delirious and I called my mum around 8:00am. Yes. I, a 22-year-old adult, called my mummy because I was sick. She told me to buy imodium and drink water.

I tried to prepare myself for the 10 minute walk to boots for medicine, which I was worried would be punctuated with several bathroom breaks/crying fits. So after a trip to boots, a sympathetic look from the cashier, and a quick stop into Starbucks for some juice, a sandwich to go and a trip to the loo, I was home.

Now that I had the medicine, you’d think that would be the end of it. Nope. Medicine didn’t work. I tried to sleep before my train home at 4:00pm but couldn’t without, shall we say explosive intervals, I contemplated sleeping in the bath or banging my head against the wall until I fell unconscious but eventually gave in, packed and went to the station.

And of course, of course, my train was delayed by an hour, cue me crying in a train station bathroom and nearly passing out on the train. But then I got home, devoured a delicious dinner and then fell asleep on the sofa in such a position that my visiting grandmother had nowhere to sit. Thankfully because I already have a chronic illness that means talking about gross bodily functions with my family, they were pretty understanding.

So I am now basically fully recovered and looking forward to easter.

I also have some exciting non-disgusting news! I am now writing for a website called Weekend Notes, and once I have set up my site, I will leave a link in my next blog.

Now was my illness just an aggressive bout of IBS? Food poisoning? Norovirus? Was I cursed by a witch (I really hope not; it’s on my bucket list to make friends with a powerful witch)? We may never know, but until next time I have jobs to apply for and a dissertation to finish!

Tune in next week to hear about my mental health appointment and my very exciting (and not at all disgusting) visit to the gastroenterologist!

Happy Easter! Remember to leave a beer out for the Easter Bunny- his job is very stressful!

Lucy 🙂