(no subject)
When I came back from Fiji, I thought that I had worms. I wasn't sure what the symptoms of worms were, but I noticed that I had a furry, white coating on my poo and I associated this with childhood memories of it meaning that I had worms.
It did not take me very long after that to convince myself that I had worms, but I was not sure and I wanted to learn more about the symptoms. Naively, I decided to do some research. I'm not sure what I expected to learn - definitely a lot less than I did - but suffice to say that delving further into the matter was probably not the best way of dealing with it. I should have just taken a one dose treatment and cut my losses - even if an infection had not been the case, at least my mind would have been at ease.
In its own warped way, what I learned from my research was another reminder of how innocent and protected I was as a child.
Back then, the term "worms" meant nothing beyond the sound of the actual word. I didn't delve into the deeper meaning, all I knew was that having "worms" was something bad that my mum could fix. I didn't even wonder why it was that it was called "worms", I didn't think for a second that there were actual live worms swimming around in my intestines and laying eggs in my rectum.
Even though I did not have the traditional symptoms of abdominal pain, loss of appetite and itching, this newfound information was enough to get me to the chemist. Even if they weren't there, I wanted them gone.
When I told my mum, she said,
"You better go to the chemist and get some treatment! I'm serious! Otherwise they will drink all your blood!"
This made me smile for two reasons:
1. My mum is still telling me, at 24, old wives tales, and sounding as serious about them as she did when I was a child.
2. Regardless of my age and the fact that I know it not to be true, the statement freaked me out as much as it would have 15 years ago.
I took the treatment, changed and washed all the sheets and towels, and everything returned to normal. I have a nagging suspicion that nothing was wrong to begin with, but I am not hallucinating worms in the toilet bowl any more, and I think that is what is most important.
On a completely unrelated note, I have just reorganised my keychain to include my lighter, so that the next time someone on the street asks me if I have a light, I will be well prepared.
It did not take me very long after that to convince myself that I had worms, but I was not sure and I wanted to learn more about the symptoms. Naively, I decided to do some research. I'm not sure what I expected to learn - definitely a lot less than I did - but suffice to say that delving further into the matter was probably not the best way of dealing with it. I should have just taken a one dose treatment and cut my losses - even if an infection had not been the case, at least my mind would have been at ease.
In its own warped way, what I learned from my research was another reminder of how innocent and protected I was as a child.
Back then, the term "worms" meant nothing beyond the sound of the actual word. I didn't delve into the deeper meaning, all I knew was that having "worms" was something bad that my mum could fix. I didn't even wonder why it was that it was called "worms", I didn't think for a second that there were actual live worms swimming around in my intestines and laying eggs in my rectum.
Even though I did not have the traditional symptoms of abdominal pain, loss of appetite and itching, this newfound information was enough to get me to the chemist. Even if they weren't there, I wanted them gone.
When I told my mum, she said,
"You better go to the chemist and get some treatment! I'm serious! Otherwise they will drink all your blood!"
This made me smile for two reasons:
1. My mum is still telling me, at 24, old wives tales, and sounding as serious about them as she did when I was a child.
2. Regardless of my age and the fact that I know it not to be true, the statement freaked me out as much as it would have 15 years ago.
I took the treatment, changed and washed all the sheets and towels, and everything returned to normal. I have a nagging suspicion that nothing was wrong to begin with, but I am not hallucinating worms in the toilet bowl any more, and I think that is what is most important.
On a completely unrelated note, I have just reorganised my keychain to include my lighter, so that the next time someone on the street asks me if I have a light, I will be well prepared.