A Stomach Made of Porcelain and Spite

Artist's rendering of how I spent my weekend. Oh, spoilers for the rest of this post, I guess.
Artist’s rendering of how I spent my weekend. Oh, spoilers for the rest of this post, I guess.

To call my stomach a fragile entity is not enough. My stomach is like a glass cell containing a hormonal silver-back gorilla during mating season that occasionally gives off a brief but painful electric shock at random intervals. I have had food poisoning or what felt like food poisoning, e-coli, stomach viruses, intestinal quivers, or what-have-you, more than the average person, I would wager.

It makes trips to the bathroom interesting. Is it going to be a pleasant, euphoric passing of the stool, or will I end up doubled over in pain and cold sweats thanks to a dragon suddenly manifesting itself in my colon? Not that I do myself any favors. I’ll enjoy super-spicy foods and sporadically think, “nah, that chicken salad hasn’t been sitting out too long.”

But why should I coddle my stomach? To paraphrase Office Space, “why should I change, my stomach is the one who sucks!?!” It’s the one with crippling acid reflux, not me. Maybe my stomach should toughen up! Yeah, that’s it, it’s tough love. Or maybe we’re just battling back and forth like a stubborn old couple in a Mexican standoff over who will introduce the divorce papers first. It really just feels like a waiting game before my anus gives up and prolapses itself from exhaustion, being caught in our conflict. (Whatever you do, do NOT Google image search “prolapsed anus.”) You could call the fallout on my anus, collateral–No, “colon-teral” damage. (Who among us is above puns!?! Don’t you judge me.)

Whatever's happening to Spider-Man right here, is what my butthole feels like. Image Source
Whatever’s happening to Spider-Man right here, is what my butthole feels like. Image Source

The latest in our seemingly endless tête-à-tête was spending my weekend fevered and afraid to be more than three feet (In metric I think…carry the two…divide by the remainder…Yeah, that’s 12 meters) from a familiar toilet or squat spot (Terrible name for a gym. “Come on down to Squat Spot Gym, do some squats, then pop a squat at our juice bar! Squat Spot Gym. Bathrooms are for members only.).

An actual picture of what has wrecked me for the weekend...and no, that's not an alcohol molecule this time.
An actual picture of what has wrecked me for the weekend…and no, that’s not an alcohol molecule this time. Image Source

After a perusal of nearly a baker’s dozen symptom-checking websites, I was either gong to die tomorrow, or I had/have Viral Gastroenteritis. A nasty little tummy bug that gives you a fever and turns whatever you eat into molten hot liquid mixed with broken glass no matter what direction it’s rocketing out of your body. My weekend was spent teeter-tottering between the chills and the sweats with a pause to decide which end I wanted to torture with the liquid retribution of a vengeful god.

While my stomach has the upper-hand now, testing my mettle, it has only served to strengthen my resolve. Retribution will be had, stomach! Much like a convict biding time until the release date, allowing the anger to grow and fester for the two accomplices who sent him up the river, I patiently wait whilst my stomach gleefully pokes at me with a rusty spear, hoping soon that my stomach will tire and grow complacent. There will be days where I’ll eat applesauce and toast for entire meals, then, when it feels rested, I will hit back with jalapeno pizza and sheets of that weird film that develops on crappy movie theater nacho cheese when you leave it out too long. I just hope my stomach hasn’t learned to read or I’ve tipped my hand.

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17 Comments

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  1. Ha! I’ve been like this my whole life. My nana called it my nervous stomach. The past 2 weeks due to a virus have been a horror. Mix all of that with stress and I should be a damn super model by now. Instead I look more like an add for children’s aid society. Hope your tummy retreats soon.

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  2. Oof, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m a bad stomach-er too. Red peppers? NO THANK YOU REALLY NO. Boyfriend blames my stomach bacteria on a lot of things (including why I’m always sooo hungryyyyyyy), so I’m trying probiotics to fix me.

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  3. I have a terrible fear of vomit, mine especially and others definitely. Huge challenge with an offspring with a talent for Olympic standard projectile vomiting.
    Soo, at a safe distance, while averting eyes and holding nose, hoping I won’t gag while I wish you a speedy recovery and the softest of toilet tissue.
    Feel better soon my friend I

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  4. I’m sorry. Perhaps you can get HHS or NIH or CDC to address this sort of thing once you are elected President.

    Myself, I have an iron stomach, which is good given my hot sauce-based diet.

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  5. Like Katy, I also have an ironclad stomach… which my wife hates. I can eat just about anything & be totally fine while she has practically every intolerance known to man. She’s also intolerant of my having an ironclad stomach & tries to force her dietary restraints upon me. Weaker people are so petty sometimes.

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  6. Your concluding paragraph is a thing of beauty and a joy forever. It was worth a weekend of suffering to produce such deathless prose.

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  7. I could just about stomach reading this. I know of such pain and it takes guts to endure it until the end result can be a crap result which may be akin to diarrhoea (yes, that’s how it’s spelled in the UK, don’t ask). And we all know that diarrhoea runs in the family.

    Hope you are completely better now.

    Gary who has not been the same since they discovered rings around Uranus 🙂

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  8. Wow! You paint such a perfect picture of the flu. Eeeewwwwwww!

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  9. Just keep that bug where you are…doesn’t sound like any fun at all.

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  10. You sound very technicoloured so avoid wearing a lot of white. . . . I hope all is well soon

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  11. Beautiful imagery, butt I hope you get over it soon.

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  12. You sound like Tim he has had stomach problems most of his adult life and it sucks, really sucks……………I however, do not have such problems but I have had food poisoning once in my life and it sucked and don’t want that type of pain again thank you very much

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  13. WOW WE HAVE THE SAME TUMMY! I cater to mine. No nuts, no onions, and nothing spicy. I had a patient with a prolapsed uterus. It was weird.

    Love,
    Janie

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  14. I’m so sorry for the misery. That’s really crappy. Pun intended but not really. Never ever check internet websites. It most assuredly labels you with every possible fatal diagnosis and a slew of potentially terminal symptoms. That’s the only advice I have for you, though it’s too late. Wait, it’s not too late, is it? You’re still there, right? Pickleope Von Pickleope. Don’t tell me it’s too late. I hope you are conquering the battle and sleeping, moving, living pain-free these days. Healing thoughts to you and your mean intestines.

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  15. Damn, Pick! I was just nibbling on a juicy donut when I started reading this but I may have lost my appetite somewhere along the way.

    Hope you and your sandman raped butt hole are feeling a bit better now. I mean that non-sarcastically, really. I’ve been there too. I can’t recall being amused at the time. Speaking of amusement (great bridge, right), guess who’s a bit aggressive on my show today….and I expect you to sing happy blue day to me.

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