The African Runs

I thought it might happen, but I wasn't really expecting it to. I'm not surprised, but I thought it would miraculously bypass me.

Instead, it's passing through me.

I've got the African runs.

It's not so bad, really. Each attack is preceded by mind-numbing stomach cramps - the kind that makes your tummy feel as though someone is squeezing it like a worry-ball.

Then come the rumblies. A small train chug-a-lugs from your writhing stomach and slowly, with bundles of air behind it, pulsates through your upper intestine. It feels kind of like a giant worm on the march; an avalanche thundering down a mountainside; the rushing gush of a toilet flush; a burb bubbling down instead of up.

It's all over over in about 5 minutes.

So far, it hasn't really affected my work schedule, as the cramps happen about once every two hours and I'm never more than twenty feet away from a toilet.

But it's sure taken all the fun out of eating. I'm slamming water and popping peptos like candy. I look at food, wondering if it will make me feel better or worse. I'm not even sure my body is deriving any nutrition from this torture. In fact, I'm pretty sure she's laying down on the job.

Proof positive: This morning, I passed an entire green bean. Whole.

I wouldn't be surprised if a boot came out next.

Yowch!