Bellyaching

My pal Monica is suffering. She is have gastrointestinal issues of every size, shape, and form. And, like all of us with gastrointestinal disease, she has discovered that everything sucks when the belly isn't good.

There is no dignity when your intestines have done you wrong. You find yourself discussing bowel movements with total strangers. You discuss the acid content of everything with the produce man. You buy Pepto in bulk. You look directly into the eye of the very attractive doctor who tried to give you a colonoscopy only to discover the medications you took to empty your intestines didn't work, who then gave you NINETEEN ENEMAS and you ask this oh so attractive man, "well, did you try twenty?" You will find yourself pissing into a plastic hat someday in the hospital, and skip gleefully to inform the hot male nurse that you have hit the
line and CAN YOU GO HOME NOW?

You will avoid your favorite foods because you know they are not worth it. You will eat some of them anyway because they are. You will stop being embarrassed to crap at work. You will stop being SO embarrassed to fart at work. You will become your mother musing aloud, "God I feel sorry for whoever is walking behind ME."

You will drink eighty-four thousand glasses of water a day because the alternative means constipation and that is the END OF THE WORLD. You will eat an apple every day because GOD KNOWS YOU NEED THE FIBER. You will know where the bathroom is everywhere you go, you might even choose to commute by train because THEY HAVE A BATHROOM.
But this side of gastrointestinal disease is sort of liberating. You don't worry about embarrassing yourself as much because you know you are going to, you just worry about doing it in more humiliating ways. At least you know how it will happen, you will have to poo or puke somewhere you really do not want to. You learn to cope, by having pants for every stage of the bloat, foods that always work, pillows that prop up your abdomen just right. You have hot water bottles and cold packs and sleeping pills when nothing else works.

Her set of problems is different than mine. Maybe it is more painful. Maybe it will turn out to be less. But it isn't as serious as we worried about. She isn't Gladys, and I wondered if she might be.

So welcome to the dark side, Monica. I am so glad to see you.