Saturday, 13 June 2009

Diet trial

I’ve started a diet trial with UCH.

It’s to see if allergens provide any bearing on IBS symptoms.

It kicked off with an 8.30am appointment, after a 12 hour fast to test for lactose intolerance, this involved drinking a dusty liquid from a disposable beaker and then breathing into a breathaliser every half hour and noting down the readings until midday, as I live nearby the kindly researcher let me leave with the machine.

Also a blood test.

Note to anyone who has to have a blood test at a hospital, they send everyone in the morning, you wait in a packed waiting room, you take a number and watch the counter board clicks slowly higher, people cough. Or you leave and come back around midday when the waiting room is empty and 5 nurses are waiting around to take blood, you're in and out in 5 minutes.

I had Erbie with me this time and I am very squeamish, he was strapped to my front and looked intently on as I looked intently away, I wasn’t the only one giving blood in the room, it wasn’t easy. Anyway, touch wood, they never seem to have trouble finding a vein.

I also got given a chart to fill in. Everything that passes my lips to be written down and any symptoms noted.

And oh joy of joys The Bristol Stool Form Chart.

Anyone squeamish reading here, scroll no further. Men seem to love this chart. The GR was so excited he downloaded it and emailed it off to most of his buddies who also eagerly emailed back with desired information.

Urgh. I go back on the 15th to get a specially tailored diet, which should be good as although The GR seems to think we have a healthy diet, pizza, chocolate eclairs, full english breakfasts, pitta and houmous - probably is not.

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‘They tuck you up your mum and dad...’
Anon - after Larkin

“Philately will get you everywhere”

“It’s not the despair, I can handle the despair. 
It’s the hope I can’t deal with”

“Each new friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
Anais Nin

‘Come on Dover move your bloomin’ arse’.
Eliza Doolittle