Gastrointestinal problems are not funny. Especially when they are truly life-altering and even dangerous to life. Dear blogging friend Rory has been dealing with major problems in this area and when I read his post I felt bad for him – can’t even get a proper diagnosis and treatment, he has had to be his own doctor.
But then I thought of a poem I had written some time ago dealing with something similar but not the same (the least of it being Rory is not old!) – so perhaps he will see this and it will give him just a little bit of a giggle?
Getting old is not for sissies, So they say, and they, are right. Unlike J. Alfred, peaches are not a problem yet, but peppers Green and hot, onions raw, salami, cheese, all of these Bring me to my knees, and more, find my husband At the store. Pepto, Maalox, liquid chalk - All are bought, and chewed and drunk. Gagging, gasping oh the pain! As I moan, Never again. Amazing how a good nights sleep has me now on steady feet. What’s for lunch? © Grace St. Clair (March 2010)