Parasitised

So that's how it feels to have a caterpillar the thickness of a Berol pen worming its way down your oesophagus.  

Sniff she said. You can't gag when you sniff. It's impossible.

Mind over matter another nurse said.  If you start to gag too much, you've lost it.  I didn't ask what would happen if I lost it.  Mind over matter!

The only thing I could relate to is practising taking your mask off in the sea when you're diving.  It's mind over matter not to breathe in through your nose when a gush of water hits your face.  Except this was in reverse. Breathing in through my nose was exactly what I had to do.  

So I did.

I was mighty proud of not gagging as the tube went down my throat and I'd been told in another fine snippet, once it gets past about 15 centimetres, you'll be beyond the reflex point.  Made it!  Sadly though, I couldn't look at the camera screen in case I did lose it.

The washing up in your stomach snippet was quite a good analogy but I've probably spent too much time watching caterpillars and parasites than I have washing up.  

Weird but not desperate. Uncomfortable but not painful. A little longer than you'd like but not too long.

Plus, the doctor thinks she saw villi which means I wouldn't have coeliac.  That's the best sign.  Results in a couple of weeks.

I think I'll be surviving the experience of my parasite better than this little fox moth caterpillar with an emerging grub, maybe a wasp, ready to dig its way in for a fine feast.

Goodbye gluten; I have feasted enough!