20 April 2024

Life's a gas

daisy overload

The thing is that there are good days, not so good days and completely shit days. The mistake I keep on repeating is that a good day is not necessarily followed by another good day. In fact, the statistics for this to happen are poor. The man, a retired science teacher, has in all seriousness suggested we track the daily shape of things to evaluate if there's a noticeable trend. While on the one hand that would be a form of occupational therapy and yet another reason to apply the amazing options of an Excel spreadsheet, it would on the other hand give even more space to what already rules far too many aspects of my wonderful life. 

Currently, I am paying too much attention on the long and convoluted path of my intestine, from that bit behind the sternum all the way it winds criss cross behind my abdominal wall based on my breakfast of a bowl of overnight-soaked fine oats of which I microwaved all the fiber to death before I carefully chewed the remaining mush with a bit of low fat milk and sent it on its merry way.  It's a slow process, occasionally I rest my hand on the small bloated lump and whisper encouragements. But mostly I use swear words while I jump up and down, go for long walks, massage clockwise and anticlockwise and take hot showers before I turn to distraction therapy and listen to the Blindboy podcast, watch true crime documentaries or whatever comes my way, all with the trusted heating pad on my belly. The best part is that it will pass even if it takes its fucking time. By when it does, life is bliss.


There are times when I wish I was a baby with a tummy ache because I know all about that, spent hours with babies on my arms, tummy side down, or on my shoulder, gently massaging back and front, waiting for that burp. The German term when a baby burps, is "ein Bäuerchen machen" which literally translates to "doing what a little farmer does", which so far has not been identified as a hostile, anti-agricultural practitioner term. Anyway, I would love it if someone could cradle me like a baby with a sore swollen tummy but even with all the recent weightloss, I am still 1.7 m tall and that would make it a bit awkward.

The man, who has been reading about methane emissions in cattle and the impact on climate change and successful remedies using seaweed, is now actively investigating seaweed sources for me.

I am writing this while seated in the cafe of the local wholefood shop, just had a decent cup of coffee, listening to the family at the next table, as you do. The parents switch to speaking English when discussing stuff they don't want their two small kids to hear. (Interesting approach to bilingual language training.) The argument is about carrot juice and whether the kids drink too much of it. Been there, I want to tell them, just let them have it, it's only a phase before they ask for sodas. But it don't think it's wise to get involved especially when they think that speaking English is their clever disguise. Dad is now quoting medical research. Always a moment when I must abstain.
And just like that the rain has ceased and I will be on my way home, walking briskly with the odd jumping motion.  Every burb and fart a blessing. I hope nobody is offended by all this reference to digestive motions and gaseous effluents. My aim here is to keep the mood at an even level just above getting desperate.  And if that's offensive to some, tough luck.

A few days ago, I discovered this youtube channel and it has brought me great joy (don't judge me, see for yourself).


Ms. Moon said...

Have you ever watched any of the Farting Preacher Youtube videos? You must. Just search for Farting Preacher.
How I, too, wish you could be cradled and have your tummy rubbed. I remember those days with my babies.
As to the Persian rug video I can only say, "HOLY SHIT!" I think that's an apt reaction. Seriously though. That's crazy.

ellen abbott said...

I had to stop eating bread because life was a gas which would escape in public. although I did have two small naan with my hummus for lunch yesterday. we'll see what today brings. I wish your intestines were as easily mollified.

those parents will probably be surprised how quickly their kids catch on to english and if the kids are clever, they won't let their parents know.

and last, that video. I don't have 20 minutes to be mesmerized so I clicked through it stopping to watch a minute here a minute there. what I want to know is how the hell did it get do dirty? that is not 65 years of dust settling on a rug indoors. it looks like it was outside and embedded in mud for 65 years. that it didn't disintegrate during the cleaning process is amazing.

Pixie said...

I looked up the rug video, because I wondered if it had been in a flood and sure enough, it had been, several floods in fact. How satisfying to bring a beautiful rug back to life.

As for your gut, I have no answers. I have my own struggles. I ate lentils yesterday and the microbes in my gut were gleeful apparently, judging by the amount of gas they produced:) The older I get, the harder it is to regulate my gut. I had a long conversation with a coworker last week and she is the same, we eat basically the opposite in diets and both have the same problem. It's not me.

Can you tolerate high fat? Like creme brulee?

And the parents in the cafe, too funny. My sister in law was worried when her first daughter ate too much broccoli. Not a hill to die on I told her. There are way worse things.

Sending hugs and forceful thumps to your back.

Linda Sue said...

Ahhh to be cradled between Ma's knees, rocked and thumped...that is so needed, I wish that for you, in your dreams. Seems abdominal pain spreads to every molecule, everything in the vehicle explodes. I am so sorry for your pain. "make it stop!" I shout at the universe!
The rug cleaning was the most satisfying thing I have seen all week! Thank you!That it was not tossed into landfill is quite something, too! A mountain of dirt in that rug!

Anonymous said...

I've been reading you a long time but haven't commented before. I deal with the same gut issues, although not as severe (although mine has certainly been escalating recently!)

But thank you for the rug cleaning video - I now want to be a rug cleaner because it looked so satisfying. Since I'm 72, unlikely, though.

am said...

Always sending love.

Astonishing, isn't it, what can bring joy and relief against all odds? My low back didn't hurt at all while I was watching the cleaning of that beautiful Persian (Iranian) rug. There is something a friend told me about years ago called ASMR. I haven't thought about ASMR since that time when I found that YouTube has numerous ASMR videos. As I was watching and listening to the rug being cleaned I was reminded of those ASMR videos. This video was more satisfying than any other ASMR video I watched all those years ago.

While watching, I began to wonder what was going on in Iran at the time the rug was made.


I wondered about the person or persons who made it. Women. I thought about the wool, silk and cotton that goes into a Persian rug and the people and other living beings (sheep, silk worms, plants) who made existence of the rug possible. I wondered where the flooded warehouse was which was mentioned in the comments (I read every single comment). Was that how the rug became so full of mud?

And I wished I had known, as a young woman, that one could make a living as a Persian rug cleaner. A job that would have suited my nature and skills and aptitudes and aesthetics perfectly. It was interesting to see that at the end of the process, a second person was needed.

It was a delight to discover that we have a similar Persian rug cleaning business in the small town where I live:


jozien said...

Hi Sabine, I am so sorry to hear about your tummy, yes do curl up and on a warm day maybe lay on the daisies. But me always full of well intentioned advice. You help me with my ailing husband. His days are most often worse then the last, mine somehow are most often better then the last. Like yesterday when i gently tease him, he teases me lovingly back. I take these moments as nuggets, and call it very good day. it did not beat sunday, because sunday was phenomenal. I do ponder though if we really are all in the same boat, because always in your post in between the pain i feel your vigor and joy of life! wonderful.