No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Tuesday, 29 June 2010

Did someone put an intestinator in me as a child?

If you get the reference, seriously, that would explain so much.  Maybe there's just yellow and red lines all around the world that I can't see and keep accidentally crossing as a result.

I'm in a lot of pain currently.  My digestive system has fucked up, as it is want to do, and seemingly with a sense of irony as it tends to do it at the most inopportune moments.  Moderate screw ups happen every 3 weeks or so (minor screw ups being just the daily norm); Major ones happen every 6-9 weeks.  This is a major one.  It means I get stomach cramps.  Which gives completely the wrong idea about what they feel like.  Any woman who argues to me that men can't understand the pain of childbirth; I beg to differ.  At least when you're giving birth, chances are you're stoked full of an epidural, or  in a water bath or whatever.  Chances are you haven't doubled over in the middle of crossing the road without warning, because your muscles decided to spasm.

Chris, having known me for a good 6 years, and known me when I was a lot worse too, can vouch for the fact that when I get bad cramping, I might as well be having labour contractions, yet trying to live a daily life.  I double over, I collapse, in the brief moments between spasms I walk with the speed of an octogenarian wearing plaster casts on both feet.  It's not pleasant.  And it generally lasts 3 days.  For a gastric system that is otherwise devoid of nerve endings, stomach cramps seem to be something it feels rather acutely.  There's a small plus side to this, it means I have obscenely developed stomach muscles; I honestly think i could bend a steel bar with the strength of these crampings.  But mostly, it's just fucking painful, leaves me exhausted, and usually covered in a lot of sweat.  I am, for all intents and purposes, chronically ill when going through them.

Yes yes, I know, fibre, water, pepto-bismal, all that.  My body doesn't process them properly, which is where the whole medical problem with my gastric system comes about, so piling more on top when I'm already in middle of some severe debilitation is not going to help matters.  Unfortunately the only thing I can really do is let it run its course, and after a few days of being horrifically ill, things will settle down for a little while again.  I just wish it didn't have such a sense of timing.

As I say, it generally chooses the most inopportune moment to give me the major episodes.  I'm currently having one whilst seeing the boy I love in America who I haven't seen for 4 months, and have no clue when I'll ever see again.  Knowing my body, it'll decide I'm due another one in about 5 weeks, just when I get back from the US and see Chris for the first time in a month and a half. -_-  Thing is, this wouldn't be so bad, if it negated my sex drive at the same time, but no, I'm usually on heat, for lack of a better term, whilst feeling like the equivalent of having just come down with TB.  With a similar level of attractiveness too.  Great.  Just great.

Whilst Chris by virtue of knowing me and seeing the effects of it for several years, and Joel, by virtue of having his own childhood medical nightmares that continue to haunt him, both give me lots of sympathy and understanding during these periods, which is just as well what with being one of my best friends and my fiance.  But at the same time, it's quite nice being with Terence at the moment with it.  For all I'd much, much rather not have it around him, he is someone who not just sympathizes, but knows exactly what I'm going through, because the boy has a similar, in fact, more fucked digestive system than I do.  He has also collapsed  in the middle of the street; he knows why I say its like giving birth, and he knows that there's bugger all that can be done about it, and that I'll get over it eventually, and then have to go through it all over again in 2 months or so.  And that's kinda nice in a way.  Sympathy and someone who can relate through issues of their own is amazing, and great, but having someone who has the same issues as you is like going that extra mile, its a little thing that shouldn't really matter, but it does, a lot.

I'm on day 2 of this, I'm really hoping there isn't a day 3.  Though of course, the universe being what it is, Just as I'm in the middle of it about to start coming back up out the other side, Terence has started to go down.  I am going to be so fucking pissed if by the time I can actually fuck that boy's brains out like I've wanted to since he picked me up in his car, he's then too ill to do anything.  Karma owes me.  I'm going after that bitch's ass.  Something owes me at least.  And if I can't take down Karma, I'll re-crucify Jesus along the way.  If the universe implodes or there's a big flash of light in the sky that screws everything up, at least know I'll be having some fucking awesome sex to make up for it.

Otherwise, plans for the day are to generally curl in in the foetal position trying not to cry or cause myself internal bleeding from the strength of the muscle tension, and possibly watch V in the fleeting moments I get where I can concentrate on the world that isn't my intestinal system.

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