Shit, and What To Do About It. (for Beka Barry)

It's been a month + a few days since I first landed in Cabo, and exactly one month since the marathon that was Friday, Dec. 3rd. It started early and went late, and in the middle was a liver-testing amount of booze. Everything from tequila to margaritas to Tecate y Corona. It was stellar. It also pretty much ruined me for the rest of the trip.

When I say "ruined me" I mean internally. That night I got a bug or something. Whatever it was, I wasn't "right" for the rest of the trip, and haven't been since I returned. Not to be too gross, but I made 3 trips to el baño before 8:30am one morning. Fully juxtaposed was Killorn's problem, where-in she couldn't pass so much as a test. We rountabled her idea for O'Neill relief, that being laying her waist-deep in the surf and dropping a SuperFly on her from the shoulders of a turtle-whistling beach vendor, trying to really horse it out of her. But she balked after my test-Fly necessitated my rolling in the surf to "purify the ruins." I wasn't well. My energy was very low, my steps very nimble, and my eyes eagled any potential restroom. Note the use of "potential."

Tuesday morning found us on a snorkeling adventure. Off in remote-like beach, Santa Maria Bay, everyone was ready to hop in the water and have a grand ol' time before the booze cruises showed up. Those were pathetic, btw. Before I mask and fin the bod here, I had the burn of the Baja Boiler roil inside me, and I HAD to go. I refused to take that into the water, although it may have fended off the Water Pumas. Water Pumas are jellyfish about the size of a button mushroom that attack in legions of 2-5, and are nearly impossible to escape from, unless you decide to turn slowly in your floating and kick to an area that is Puma-safe. They WILL sting you mercilessly, leaving welts and a hot tingling sensation to rival that of a fast spitwad or a good flick.

Before adventuring into the bay I asked the "guide" (i.e. the guy who drove the van to the beach, then handed out beers) where the nearest baño was. His mostly-toothed smile and slight chuckle told me I was shit-out-0f-luck, and would therefore have to shit-out-of-doors. So, with feet turned outward, I headed behind a little outcropping that provided both shade and shield from my snorkel crew's eyes. The decibel level of my gurgling colon told them what I was up to, I'm sure. But hey, when ya gotta go, you may as well tell everyone about it, even if they weren't there. I was able to find some quarter where I was sure I'd be safe. A few seconds after getting into position I heard a rustle in the bushes behind me, but I figured it was either a compatriot or a Mexicanimal in for the shock of its life. Either way, a quick scan of footprints and scattered McDonalds napkins told me I wasn't among the first 50 people to do what I was doing where it was being done. I watched my step on the way out.

Those were the extremes I was driven to with this sickness. I drank a fair 8oz of Pepto, Mylanta, and straight wax in attempts to slow the processes. I know that copious amounts of alcohol, chicken, and beans weren't doing my any favors, but I've never had anything like this that sends me and my sweaty upper-lip doing a tip-toe hop to the can at least twice a day. So I have only one avenue left to heal myself: Colon Hydrotherapy.

I've had two such therapies before, and lemme tell ya what... they're amazing. A literal Fountain of Youth. The reason they work is that they cleanse the body of most of your toxins, or prepare it to do so. The lymph system we all hold onto filters toxins from our system, running them through a sort of liquid filter (lymphatic fluid), and depositing the toxins in our colon for expulsion. If the pipes are clogged, or not running right, then something's amiss. And something is Biblically amiss with me. I feel sluggish and sick and a step behind, more than I normally do. The colonic therapy clears all the toxins out, then kickstarts your liver, which you can feel and will recognize if you've ever drank too much PBR at Dante's. Usually I leave with a bounce in my step and a very clear head... yeah, I know.

So as I prepare to scoot off again to Tony Moser-ize the 2nd floor men's room (I work on the 3rd floor), I recommend that you seek some naturopathic remedies whenever possible. Nature holds a cure for almost every ailment, except childhood and the desire to be a comic. Other than that, Nature's already found a way to heal you. Western Medicine couldn't hold me back. I'm ready to SuperFly through the front door of Mountlake Terrace Acupuncture and Naturopathic Healing Clinic. Note... "HEALING." Not "Doctor's Office." I can attest, nothing ever gets done in an office. Go forth and cleanse thyself of evil. Especially after the holidays. Nobody needs this much nog.



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My Non-Funny Blog.