It was Wednesday night. We decided on Chinese takeout & an evening snuggled up watching Alien (hubbie had never seen it before, but I had). Our night went something like this:
ME: Oh this next bit is sooo gross, the alien bursts through his chest.
Hubbie: Just let me watch it, ok?
ME: Sure honey. Hey, guess how many people make it out alive!
Hubbie: Probably only one.
ME: How did you know? Yeah Sigorney Weaver's character is winnner of Sole Survivor! Hehe
Hubbie: GRR! I didn't know WHICH one made it out. Stop talking.
ME: Fine, sorry.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know they were in the middle a fight scene.
ME: Hey babe, are you up to the part where you find out that guy's actually a robot? No?
Oopsies.
Anyway it was almost midnight when we finished watching it. I'd started feeling really lousy and my stomach was churning. I could feel gas bubbles ripple up and down my tummy. When the pain spread to my chest, I was convinced that I'd been infected with an alien & it was going to explode out of me at any second!
I told hubbie it was ok with me if he re-married after I died and shared my last wishes: Burial, not cremation. Lots of pink and white flowers and a really pretty box. No skimping on my funeral!
He suggested that I go sit on the toilet for a while (which I thought was an absurd response to my final wishes but I went anyway)...
WHOOSH! Man I felt better afterwards. But then hubbie started banging on the door telling me to hurry up.
ME: Go away! I'm on the toilet!!
Hubbie: PLEASE HURRY! I need to use it.
ME: Go away!!
Hubbie: Where should I go?! To the bed? On your favourite new bed sheets?!
I hurried up and let him in.
ME: I take no responsibility if you pass out in there.
Hubbie was pretty much better by lunch time yesterday and stupidly I decided to head outside with him for a walk. I got around the corner and down the street before I felt a pain in my stomach so intense I doubled over - it was like someone was grabbing my intestines and pulling them out. I'd seen that you-tube video where the girl has the unfortunate accident in the hot tub & I was determined not to be her! I clenched my butt cheeks, turned around and rushed back home. I must have been holding my breath the entire way back because my face was red as beetroot when I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom.
About 36 hours after this whole thing started, I woke up feeling a lot better.
And that's my obligatory diarrhoea post shared for all future travellers! My advice: if you've got Bombay Belly, don't venture more than 5 meters from a functioning toilet!
ME: Oh this next bit is sooo gross, the alien bursts through his chest.
Hubbie: Just let me watch it, ok?
ME: Sure honey. Hey, guess how many people make it out alive!
Hubbie: Probably only one.
ME: How did you know? Yeah Sigorney Weaver's character is winnner of Sole Survivor! Hehe
Hubbie: GRR! I didn't know WHICH one made it out. Stop talking.
ME: Fine, sorry.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know they were in the middle a fight scene.
ME: Hey babe, are you up to the part where you find out that guy's actually a robot? No?
Oopsies.
Anyway it was almost midnight when we finished watching it. I'd started feeling really lousy and my stomach was churning. I could feel gas bubbles ripple up and down my tummy. When the pain spread to my chest, I was convinced that I'd been infected with an alien & it was going to explode out of me at any second!
I told hubbie it was ok with me if he re-married after I died and shared my last wishes: Burial, not cremation. Lots of pink and white flowers and a really pretty box. No skimping on my funeral!
He suggested that I go sit on the toilet for a while (which I thought was an absurd response to my final wishes but I went anyway)...
WHOOSH! Man I felt better afterwards. But then hubbie started banging on the door telling me to hurry up.
ME: Go away! I'm on the toilet!!
Hubbie: PLEASE HURRY! I need to use it.
ME: Go away!!
Hubbie: Where should I go?! To the bed? On your favourite new bed sheets?!
I hurried up and let him in.
ME: I take no responsibility if you pass out in there.
Hubbie was pretty much better by lunch time yesterday and stupidly I decided to head outside with him for a walk. I got around the corner and down the street before I felt a pain in my stomach so intense I doubled over - it was like someone was grabbing my intestines and pulling them out. I'd seen that you-tube video where the girl has the unfortunate accident in the hot tub & I was determined not to be her! I clenched my butt cheeks, turned around and rushed back home. I must have been holding my breath the entire way back because my face was red as beetroot when I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom.
About 36 hours after this whole thing started, I woke up feeling a lot better.
And that's my obligatory diarrhoea post shared for all future travellers! My advice: if you've got Bombay Belly, don't venture more than 5 meters from a functioning toilet!
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