What a subject

Standard
Subject to Change (Switched album)

Subject to Change (Switched album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Some things we humans do are never spoken about to others unless they are our doctor, surgeon or nurse in which case we open up and tell them like it is. ‘Too much information’ is often the response if we make the attempt to describe ‘a personal problem’ and yet these ‘personal problems’ happen to us all. A mark of civilization it must be that we hide away our bodily functions and intimate functions when paying visits to ‘the little girls/boys room’. We cannot even say out loud, ‘toilet’ or ‘lavatory’ and use synonyms instead which is rather pointless as everyone knows exactly what you mean. How does the name change alter the way we respond? Strange beings we are. So now then I might wish to relate an unfortunate experience I had on Wednesday morning but how do I go about revealing the details without offending? If I use synonyms you will understand because you will be re-arranging the information in your thoughts to visualise what is revealed. If I tell it like it was you may just think the worst of me. For some it doesn’t matter one hoot. I arose early on Wednesday and was showered, dressed and make-up on before eight-thirty. I thought I might go for a walk before breakfast, just taking a little drink beforehand, though I always take water with me. It was a very wet morning and that didn’t change until mid-afternoon but I was covered up with my new waterproof jacket. I returned home before eleven o’clock and prepared a coffee and a cup of tea, the coffee for E and the tea for me. I just wanted a change for a change! I sat in the rear lounge with E who was doing some craft work on her lap. Suddenly I felt the urge to go visit the lavatory and for more than just a wee. I sat there for ages thinking ‘here I am broken-hearted, paid a penny and only **rted’. Nothing happened except that I began to feel abdominal pain as if constipated but I also felt nauseous and light-headed. I sat down for a minute but had to go upstairs to fetch something. As I got upstairs I dashed into the toilet there and gave it another go. Again nothing so I went to my bedroom to fetch what I had gone up there for but as I walked into the room my legs became like jelly (jello) and I collapsed to the floor. I had fainted. E came upstairs to see if I was alright but by then I had risen and was on my way to the toilet once more feeling very sick indeed. Have you ever felt that no matter which position you try you still remain uncomfortable? Eventually I asked E if she could bring me some honey and a spoon. After taking a spoonful I began to lose the nausea but was still in pain having not passed any solids (okay poo) yet. After what seemed an age it finally happened and everything went back to normal, or so I thought. I needed some sustenance but found I couldn’t eat anything except a spoon-full of jelly or jello. I hadn’t been constipated by the way, it was just the first part…..if you know what I mean! Hopefully I will have described my bad experience without causing offence though I know that even those remotely offended know full-well what I meant.

Shirley Anne

Advertisements

Comments are closed.