I am ill again, the same cystitis that had me out of action at the end of last year. And, I have just remembered, last Valentine's Day, as I recall experiencing the exact same wave of irony that I would be celebrating the festival of love with an illness which makes sex about the least appealing thing you can possibly imagine short of putting stinging nettles where the sun doesn't shine (and I don't mean Manchester).
Anyway, the doctor, fearing drug resistance, has put me on a different antibiotic from usual. I am used to taking antibiotics, and used to prohibitions against drinking alcohol, which is fine - I can easily go without booze for a week, and it's a good opportunity to give your liver a rest. This time, however, the antibiotics come with a new instruction: I can have alcohol, but I am not allowed to have any dairy products. That's right. Not only am I in pain, feverish, and not able to go more than five minutes without visiting the loo, I CAN'T EAT CHEESE FOR A WEEK. Forget sex, forget wine, this is the hardest cut of all. There is *nothing* I love more than cheese, and that includes most of my closest friends (they know this and bear the burden as best they can).
My bladder is a cruel, cruel mistress. I am her unwilling slave.
Cheeeeeeeeeese.
Sigh.
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2 comments:
Ah, but just think how great that first bite of cheese is going to be when you're able to have some.
Ouch, sorry about the cystitis, and the cheese free zone.
On the plus side though, it was sunny in Manchester today ;-)
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