The saga continues...

Once upon a time in IBS land, there lived a young woman who, after working rather hard on three monograph mailings, went home very ill indeed. It had been just over a month since she felt the familiar rumblings of impending doom. She lay prostrate on the couch to no avail. Would relief ever come? She doubted the sun would shine once more. She then undertook a stretching and flexing regimen with Mistress Lara, Pilates Goddess to see if that would, in fact, loosen things up internally. Immediately afterward the young woman felt very good indeed. Yes, it was working! She decided to try a flushing potion of warm water and apple cider vinegar meant to promote healthy digestion. It tasted vile but perhaps it held the key to recuperation? No. No, it did not. Neither did the olive oil smoothie meant to flush the bowels. Would nothing save the young woman from her distress?

She could barely stand up straight, the discomfort was so great, and she nearly passed out on her way up the stairs after becoming increasingly light-headed. "I am no fainting tulip," said she. "I am WOMAN, hear me roar!" But she had to admit that she felt quite shitty and that roaring was the last thing on her mind. So she gathered all her strength about her to make a cup of lavender tea and draw a hot bath. If the heating pad didn't work, perhaps total submersion would? Alas, the bath made her even more lightheaded but after several trips in and out of the tub to stretch on the floor, she achieved a state of relative comfort in the soapy waters. This was very good indeed. Then, after the bath, the young woman received a phone call from her Phillies fan mother who proceeded to express her concern for her daughter, lamenting the fact that she was trying to do too much when under the veil of illness. "But no, mother," said the young woman, "I am trying every play in my book and nothing is working." The young woman wanted to throw the phone across the room and watch it splinter into pieces but that would have been imprudent. It wasn't her mother's fault - nor anyone else's - that she had had another flare up. In fact, it was her own desire to try the new frozen yogurt place that opened in town and perhaps it must be said that the young woman cannot experiment with new foods, though she may desire a change from time to time.

Her mother was only looking out for her well-being and trying to understand the nuances of the dreaded condition. She was resolute: there must be something that works to stop these symptoms! The young woman sadly informed her mother that no, in fact there is no cure and that home remedies are trial and error. Fiercely protective as always, the young woman's mother made her swear to keep a detailed food log and record all symptoms in the future as they present themselves. The young woman agreed, resigning herself to a highly regimented existence that was the only way to ensure no further misery such as last night's befell her again anytime soon. There would be no need for homeopathic laxatives or bodily contortions in the near future, that's for sure! And no more frozen yogurt.

***
Yes, GGs, sadly I relapsed overnight on Monday into the wee hours of Tuesday morning. I missed a day and a half of work while struggling to recoup. It was hell but I lived to tell the tale. Words of advice: do NOT try new things, as tempting as it may be because really that's just a recipe for an epic digestive fail. Stick to the known entities, boring though they may be, and you will find comfort in regulation (if not an exciting burst of culinary adventure.)

The culprit: Fruity Yogurt's Taro flavor mixed with extra tart, mochi and yogurt boba

The moral: Never again

In other news, the vinegar flush seemed to do the trick. I'll have to do more digging around other IBS blogs to see if fellow sufferers have had success with this ritual. Seems as viable as Kelly Clarkson's Canola oil pre-concert gulp which always struck me as particularly vile but hey, if it works for her...

Until next time - and here's hoping there are no flare-ups to blog about next time!
--xoxo,
GG