So my boyfriend, two of my friends and I have decided to go to Turkey for a weeks holiday. We leave on Tuesday, “how fantastic!” you say? Well, first there are a few points I, and probably every other IBD sufferer must consider:
1. What if the authentic Turkish food sets my bowel into spasm?
2. I can’t drink the Turkish water, it may have chemicals in it. What if my delicate stomach decides to play up if I drink some? Wash my salad leaves in it? Have a cup of tea? Open my mouth during a shower (see Charlotte during Sex and The City 2)
3. What if I need the loo quickly? Many loos in Turkey are apparently a simple hole in the ground with no toilet paper…IBD hell.
I also must consider that I struggle with dehydration as my ilium has been removed. (the part of the bowel that absorbs salts and nutrients) add this to the fact that last week in Turkey the temperature was reaching 40 degrees and I must consider that we might have a problem. I drink roughly four litres of water here in Scotland every day, where 101% of the times it is raining, what am I going to be like with that big old yellow thing in the sky beaming down on me?
If I need a hospital, will they understand English? Do they have have the right things to treat a flareup? Will it by hygienic? Will they give me water!?!?!? Oh dear lord. How do you say “bowel” in Turkish?!
Not to mention my health insurance, which is, of course, more expensive as I have a chronic illness, will it be okay? Will they rob me in my naive state?
Will my scar be okay in the sun? Will it pop open like a scene from Alien? ahhhhhhh
Breathe Roisin, breathe.
And as I lay here in the foetal position, rocking back and forth, I realise I’ll be in Turkey, most likely with a cocktail in hand, in the sun, in a gorgeous White dress my Mum bought me. That thought calms my mind a little, until I take a sip and my chilled bottled Highland Spring water and slowly I feel the panic rising again…