So, since I wrote last, I had my final juice of the day which was beetroot and lemon I think. It was nice enough. Nicer than the beetroot juice I’ve had at home from cartons. All the juices here are blended fresh so they are pretty yummy. Nay said beetroot juice gives her the purple squits within an hour and the first few times it happened she was convinced she was dying but it turns out that reaction is Nay’s own special issue because I still haven’t pooed ALL day.
What’s interesting is that despite fasting on liquids only, swimming half a mile, attending a yoga class and going for a walk…I managed to GAIN several pounds in weight today. This could be two things:- 1) My body not knowing what to do with this amount of liquid and scillium husky roughage, 2) My bosoms growing an extra bra size because of being near the equator or something or 3) I’m due an enormous poo. I have no idea. Nay, however, has already lost two pounds doing all the same things I did but without a walk or a swim. My pituitary tumour (for those that aren’t familiar with him, I call him Brian, and he’s benign so don’t worry) does make weight loss quite challenging and I know my body tends to do its own thing, so I’m not panicking. I know whatever it is, it’s not fat that I’m gaining. What I am hoping from this week is to go back feeling totally fine to eat smaller portions because my appetite will be stable and grateful for small amounts, and also to have introduced daily yoga into my routine along with regular swimming.
However, I blame YOU for the next part. Yes YOU. Because you lot told me to ’embrace everything’ and keep feeding my fragile chimpy ego with your lovely praise for my writing. So I can’t really fly to the other side of Europe, sit through hour lectures about my colon, go through all this stuff and NOT take part in one of the mainstays of a detox retreat. Yes. I’m talking about the famous Amchara coffee enema.
Nay has been raving about these things for some time, although I remember when she first came here she was not wrapped about it for the first few goes. I remember her scrunchy facial expressions when she skyped me back then – having to rush to the loo every few minutes, apologising for the sound effects echoing back across the digital link. And even without that memory I’m just not particularly happy about anything going UP my bum. Very few things in my life have gone in that direction from that starting point and none of them were particularly welcome or pleasant. I’ve had a colonic before and didn’t really dig it. But I’ll try most things once. I was really resolute this was not going to happen before I came out. I genuinely don’t care about detoxing yet. But I’ve had a slight headache this afternoon and they say these are great for those, giving you an energy boost, flushing out those psillium husks and rebalancing the bioflora. But mostly…mostly guys, I’m doing it for you so you can share in the true and full experience of this journey with me.
I am a lady and I will not be posting videos. I physically recoiled when they handed me my own personalised enema kit. It was like someone handing you a gift with a big smile that they feel fabulous about giving you but you know you want to return straight to the shop it came from. I have looked at the nozzle. It’s quite dainty but I am already dreading the thought of it. One of the ladies here has had about 8 colonics and many more enemas and raves about them like they are a treat – like having a chocolate fountain at your birthday party. Ugh now that sounds like completely the wrong analogy. Bum flushing is big news here. It is a strange environment where before you have even learned someone’s name or asked them what they do for a living you have already exchanged information on how many times a day they poop, whether they suffer from an itchy arsehole and all manner of other interesting tidbits that would be at least 10th date stuff back in the real world.
In other news, Nay’s chimp is feeling better and settling down a little. She’s mighty enthused about having a coffee enema tomorrow and ‘brews her own’. Apparently it’s a special kind of posh ‘green’ coffee and not Nescafe Gold Blend (I checked). You don’t put it in hot just out of the kettle unless you want your insides scorched out like someone has buggered you with curling tongs. They did give me instructions but I’m not ready to read them yet. I need to psyche myself up for this nonsense I’m doing in the name of journalism.
There was another yoga class at five but we were busy laughing ourselves silly doing face masks at Nay’s apartment and forgot to go. I don’t think my arms could have taken it anyway. I’m pretty tired now and want to go try out the jacuzzi and steam room in the lovely garden that Nay showed me this morning. I am not going to steam my Um Zjah Zjini like Gwyneth Paltrow does. I am going to open my pores and sweat out the chemicals I’ve been working with all year. Especially that pewter that gave me the chest infection last week.
I had my welcome screening earlier where they asked me a lot of medical questions and stuff about what I wanted to get from the week (other than seeing my sis). After this consultation I decided to pay for the optional extra juice shots (prescribed specifically to help me with my issues like hormone balance, energy and immunity) and they also gave me some bioflora tablets to help all the good bacteria get a speed on. Bring it on, good bacteria – do your thing and prove to me that it’s not all madness.
I probably am not the best person to be writing about the benefits of this stuff as I do two nice firm poos a day most of the time, and don’t really have any gut issues, but I’m told there are all kinds of things it’s good for and well…when in Rome…
Tonight will be a treat. I get BROTH. Thin vegetable water. I’m genuinely excited. My inner chimp is doing that thing Cheetah from the old Tarzan films did when something exciting was happening to Tarzan. Making a lot of whooping noises and banging about inside me at the thought of warm food that tastes of something savoury. Then there will be meditation in the yoga studio. Other times of the year they do it on the roof, but it’s too hot right now and we’d all burn like crackling. I am imagining meditation will be sitting still in silence with other people whilst trying to ignore cramp setting in somewhere because I haven’t got a cushion or a sofa to do it on. But I will see. I am open minded. I am so open minded that tomorrow I am committed to stick a small hose pipe up my butt hole just so you guys can read about what it’s like to stick a small hose pipe up your butt hole and sip coffee with your sphincter.