Gagging for help

Fresher’s Flu is a well known affliction upon arrival at uni. It is an intrinsic part of the university experience as well as a unifying bond amongst the student body. However, in entering my third year I appear to be dealing with something else entirely, and NO, not what you’re thinking. That’s a cheap shot and you know it. Does anyone else go to brush their teeth in the morning and when you go to scrape your tongue you gag? And then end up releasing giant, like truly enormous burps into your bidet for the next few minutes?

Why the bidet? Well, on the off chance that I do end up releasing some…energy, the mood is immediately lightened. Instead of focusing on the fact that there are copious amounts of spew in the Vice President of the United States of America, Mike Pence (the right-hand-man to the oval office… get it), the conversation ultimately turns to focus on the implication of a student having a bidet and the juxtaposition of wealth in the St Andrews community with greater Fife.

I haven’t been able to go to my flatmates about this issue because they’ve got so much on their plates already. Something about a desire for stable relationships and emotional support? It’s not really my place to speak about an issue that doesn’t affect me, so I’ll just leave it at that.

Now, back to the matter at hand. My morning gag reflex. Unfortunately the answer has not presented itself in my weekly horoscope so I think it’s time to explore my options. Foot Reflexology? Homeopathy? Iridology? Birth control? I encourage you to join me on this journey of rejecting big Pharma! (Unfortunately I’m unable to reject big Pharma and Capitalism at the same time because it cancels the other out. Something about PEMDAS.)

I received most of my information from a locally renowned reiki practitioner that lives in the walls of Kinkell Byre. I believe her name is “tikatak” and she only understands words when delivered in iambic pentameter, but she’s incredibly knowledgeable about colloidal silver and lucid dreaming.

Now, I’m really hoping that you’re committed to this quest of self discovery alongside me, but I understand that Mars is entering retrograde, so your sacral chancla is probably making way for some heavy self doubt. I encourage you to think of yourself beyond the physical. You’re all familiar with astral projection I assume?

Why not just go to a normal doctor you ask? I’d prefer to leave the God complexes to the gods. May Hecate watch over us all. Also, I once had to be wheel-chaired out of Edinburgh airport after throwing up 13 times and repeatedly fainting and the medics sent me home in a taxi with a bin bag and advised me to “sleep it off”. “Tikatak” would’ve offered me a cup of peppermint tea at the very least.

What have I learned? They cured cancer with essential oils and charcoal years ago. Where’s the proof gone? Exactly!  Have I found a solution to my gagging issue? That’s none of your business. On an unrelated note, I have decided to go vegan.

E. M. W

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