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Firstly, may I start this blog with a serious GROAN.

That is the full-throated, guttural, despairing groan of an individual who has endured a ridiculously long and lingering tummy bug, by the way.

I found it interesting to note, whilst experiencing this six day torment, the progressive emotional stages of illness. I hadn’t really noticed before.

Firstly, there is the phase I like to refer to as the cheery phase. The ‘ah, it’s only a bug, plenty of things worse in the world…at least fasting is easy today!’ and accompanied by lots of stoic, brave-hearted laughter and mock-weary rollings of eyes etc.

That phase, I noted, ended fairly promptly. It ended at about the same time that I was hit with the realisation that it wasn’t just a 24 hour thing and that I’d have to endure it for longer, and thus not be able to eat chocolate or drink booze for over a day long period. What swiftly followed was then the quietly pissed off stage. The stage of basically being in a sulk about it, but trying to conceal it, as you’ve already made such a big deal about being all brave and noble the day before.

The third phase was the misery phase, when the bug really kicked in, and suddenly, forced fasting seemed VERY unappealing indeed, especially when everything that went in seemed to just flow out again almost instantaneously, and this was then followed by the rage filled phase, of shaking weak and drained limbs to the heavens and silently mouthing ‘why me, god? Why? WHY??’

Basically, it sucks, doesn’t it. Being poorly sucks. Four days of feeling like a wrung out cramp-riddled mess, and yes, the advantage is, it does make those fasting days super easy…but actually, I don’t like it! I don’t like it one little bit. Fasting is NO FUN AT ALL when you’ve no choice in the matter!

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