All Guts, No Glory Vol. VI
Chocolate and wine before bed don't mix. At least not when you suffer from Gastroparesis.
I recently stayed at a friends house for dinner; Steak, chips, egg and onion rings were on the menu in case you were wondering.
After the meal, we sat around the table drinking red wine, Yellow Tails' Jammy Red Roo. If you're a fan of red wine and have a sweet tooth, I highly recommend it!
We spent the latter part of the night telling tales of bygone years, we've known each other for nearly 17 years now so there are plenty of hilarious stories to tell. Stories very similar to the ones you may have read in this blog!
We complained about adulting, our jobs and just life. We listened to some of our favourite songs, sang along and generally had a fun evening. Once the wine had dried up, out came the gin. Surprisingly not too much of a dangerous leap in terms of mixing your drinks, (which, as a former bartender, I don't ever recommend, obviously).
As the drinks flowed and the laughter continued, an Easter Egg was produced and laid upon the table for all to enjoy. I had my fair share and then some, apparently the alcohol had induced some hunger into me even though I had just devoured a steak dinner.
Once it was time to hit the hay, I trundled on up the stairs and made my way to bed. A fact about Gastroparesis is that it flares up after a spike in sugar levels as well as fatty foods...
A couple of hours had passed when I awoke, still slightly drunk yet aware that something wasn't quite right. I knew this feeling and instantly checked the situation. It wasn't good. In fact, it was safe to say this was a disaster.
White sheets and a white bed are not my friends when it comes to my stomach issues. What made this a thousand times worse was that it wasn't my bed or my house.
I couldn't just clear up and get on with my sleep like I usually would.
I made my way to the bathroom and stripped down. Jumped into the shower and cleaned myself up. I then started to wonder what the hell I was gunna do next? I opened the bathroom door to see my best mate stood there with a slightly concerned look on his face. At first I thought he must have been wondering why I was showering at 5am. Then I saw it. My heart stopped and my stomach sank. A wave of anxiety, embarrassment and sadness flowed through me. There, in the hallway, was a trail. A trail I had left behind that led right back to the stinky crime scene. On cream carpets.
I burst into tears. I was exhausted, drunk and in a state. He hugged me and told me it was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Luckily, he's a nurse in A&E and this probably isn't the worst thing he's ever had to deal with, plus they have a dog. One that once needed house training. He told me to get myself sorted out while he cleaned up. I came out of my hiding place that was the bathroom to see he'd completely cleaned everything. The bed was laid with fresh linen and the carpet looked nearly spotless. I slumped onto the bed, feeling sorry for myself and worried about falling back to sleep in case this wasn't the end of my stomachs tirade against the world outside of the fleshbag I call my body. He bid me goodnight and told me to seriously not worry, "You're apologising for being ill. Don't be an idiot" were the words that rang through my head as he left the room. He was right and I was grateful, so grateful.
The next morning wasn't awkward and there was a nod of appreciation on my part and a smile of understanding from him. My hangover subsided and I headed home.
Luckily I have been invited back since and there are no hard feelings! Not all my gastric incidents are hilarious and sometimes, trying to find the humour in them can be tricky but I never dwell on them and never allow them to get to me too much past the accident itself. I'm also very lucky to be surrounded by people who are so understanding and keep me in good spirits about these things.
Thank you to the best friends who've always been there throughout, you know who you are.
Thanks for reading!
Matt.
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