What a load of shit

Warning: Extensive references to faeces.

As befits a man of my vintage, I have a few bodily complaints. My back hurts, my eyes are not as good as they could be and the hair does not have the coverage it once had. But throughout the various medical pitfalls that have punctuated my life; my digestive system has continued to operate with commendable efficiency. You can throw anything at it; and while other may be vomiting in a corner, Spike’s digestive tract just gets on doing what it was designed to do.

The last time I can recall throwing up was on new year’s eve in 1985 in Holland. This was after the son of my boss had convinced me I should drink Dutch gin from a pint glass, so I don’t think you could blame my digestive system for failing to cope.

As for happenings further down the digestive chain, well there’s maybe the occasional over-enthusiasm for waste products to escape; usually after too much spicy food; but nothing exciting enough to share as a story over the dinner table.

So when I lay in bed at around 0400 two nights ago and felt like death was imminent, my tummy was not on the list of potential guilty parties. My heart was pounding, my head was aching and a a substantial fever seemed to have taken hold. I did not feel good and I did not know why. More out of boredom than anything else, I headed for the toilet.

Oh my god. While I had been asleep, persons unknown had inserted an industrial sized tank of very hot Ovaltine inside my body; and the act of sitting down opened a valve and the Ovaltine came flooding out of me; although from the smell of it, it was not a flavour I recognised. Must have been a really big tank too, because it took a long time to empty; after which I felt it prudent to hose down the bathroom and have a shower before crawling back into bed. The Ovaltine evacuation exercises continued for the next several hours.

Since then I have mainly been asleep. Thanks to a regular diet of clay, the Ovaltine emissions have now stopped, but that in turn means that my botty is not going to see much activity for the next week.

The prime suspect is a dodgy prawn. As she who must be obeyed cooked said prawn she is feeling unjustifiably guilty; but on the plus side it means she has been even more caring than usual; cooling packs on the forehead, body washes, that sort of thing.

Hopefully I will be feeling more normal tomorrow, although it could be a while before I drink Ovaltine again.

Comments 🔗

2011-01-22 | genuinej says

Thanks so much for sharing that with us.

2011-01-22 | Spike says

You are most welcome. Photos will follow.

2011-01-22 | Pete says

No, No - Not the photos. The mental images are more than enough thank you.

Been there, had that. Get well soon.

2011-01-23 | biggrtiggr says

hope you will be back to ’launching otters’ soon, in the meantime, sooth with ice cube suppositories, they are supposited to help immensly.

2011-01-24 | Spike says

I gave it a try; but misread your advice and used ice cream. Strangely comforting, might become a hobby.

2011-01-24 | jim lee says

Your post brought back to me the occasion I fell a victim of e-coli in Pattaya some years ago. I remember it so well. The grey shit/liquid, explosions/dumps every twenty minutes or so throughout the night; the smell, so like a sewer; the feeling of ’this could well be my last night on Earth’. Memories, eh? I hope you’ve not been sticking ice cream up your arse, but if you have I am lead to believe that chocolate is generally the flavour of choice of the masses. Enjoy, !!