On a lovely Thursday afternoon, my friend and I decided to go to Port Royal as we needed to enjoy some mouth-watering steamed fish, bammy, and festival. This was one of the usual monthly excursions that we hadn’t done in a while, so when I found her disappointed and jilted by her friends, I quickly used the opportunity to dwindle down her frown. Without any hesitation, we started off on our journey to a seafood paradise.
As we traveled along, I busily admired the lush green mountainside and the beautiful seascape, which is partially blocked by boulders to protect the stretch of road we know as the ‘Airport road.’ In all this, I thought of how blessed my beautiful island is. After passing the airport, I had more to admire as there was a long stretch of mangroves that made my thoughts run as wild as they looked. When we reached our destination, we were off on an adventure like tourists let loose in nature, but it seemed we were too loose as hunger struck shortly after; it was time to have a bite. We then quickly made our way to the area that was ready to receive our money for food, to fill our tummy – seafood paradise.
After being seated, we anxiously awaited the arrival of our waiter, who we hoped would attend to us quickly. At an adjacent table, we noticed a couple and child were actually seated before us, so it was only fair that they should be served first. My friend and I soon realized it would be a long wait before we would be served so we started talking about different things and without thinking, we ventured into the world of Christianity. Our neighbors then joined in without an invitation, but that was ok as they shared ideas that were beneficial. While talking I felt like I was filled; there was a sense of satisfaction just hearing about the goodness of God. Anyway, the waiter sensed that soon the ‘spiritual food’ would eliminate the physical food, so he finally attended to us. We placed our order but was disappointed shortly after. It seemed the waiter was no longer ‘threatened’ as we had to wait an additional hour to get our food. We spent TWO hours waiting for food! I must admit though, that the annoyance formed during this time melted away as soon as the first soft and titillating bite hit my taste buds.
We savored each bite of our meals, paid our bills, and then off we left for home. My friend drove, so we had a vehicle at our own convenience and suffice to say we reached our homes safely. I was feeling quite exhausted so I had a bath and then off to bed. Now, I normally turn off the bedroom light when I’m about to sleep, but it remains semi-lit as the bathroom light is always on; it reflects reasonably well in there. Anyway, I slept for about three hours but in the fourth hour, I had a weird feeling in my tummy, like someone had kicked me in it. I jumped up but saw no one and with the lingering pain, the kicks became more intense like a series of ‘Jackie Chan karate kicks’. It was so frightening that I ran to the bathroom thinking that since no one was there, then what could be inflicting such pain to my tender flesh. Unfortunately, that second series bowled me over; I felt like a young mother ready to give birth. My tummy became potbelly and the pain fluctuated.
I walked about the house; the pain driving me insane, its intensity fluctuating, and its source unknown. I crawled into bed seeking solace and refuge, hoping that sleep would be the antidote. As the minutes crept on and my eyes slowly closed, I felt my body being sprung into action. My tummy felt like the beginning of a 100m race with the finishing point in the anus but in my bathroom on my throne. As I sat upon the throne, I became a queen as it was defecation time. My potbelly was quickly replaced by a flat belly, then a number of belches ensued. From the onset of that first belch, I realized what had started the pain. Yes, Mr. Gas came to visit, simply because I decided to eat at my own time and not on time. O did he visit! His rage continued until the wee hours of the morning, and all I could do was try to stay alive through all the blows on the throne.
I knew I had to ’emancipate’ myself from the pain, from the throne, so I sought assistance from ‘ginger tea’ which I had some level of confidence in. It did just as anticipated and gave me enough strength to crawl back in bed. After sleeping for about 30 minutes something else hit me, a sudden ‘calm’ after the night’s ‘storm.’
