MANTALK: The view from the high chair or sobriety

It’s interesting watching how full of themselves people can get when they get drunk and you can’t join them. PHOTO| FILE| NATION MEDIA GROUP

What you need to know:

  • I keep telling everyone I meet that I have H Pylori because a) I’m a crybaby and b) I’m a crybaby.
  • You will be surprised at how many people will tell you that they have suffered from H Pylori. H. Pylori is an equal opportunity disease.
  • I’m surprised there is no support group for People Suffering H Pylori.

I know this is none of your business but I have H Pylori. Rather, the doctor I saw said I do and I don’t have any evidence to refute it. My stomach feels bloated and it rumbles all the time. Plus I’m all out of funk. So yes, he might be right. He warned me that the drugs would make me feel as bad as the H Pylori. He was right, again because I feel sick half the time and disillusioned the other. I sometimes open my fridge and I stand there trying (unsuccessfully) to recall what I wanted therein. This, of course, could be related to the H Pylori… or it could be the usual budding dementia. As if a bloated stomach isn’t enough I have a constant metallic taste in my mouth, which makes food tastes like grass. I still eat, though.

I’m on this cocktail of antibiotics that should be outlawed by the Pharmacy and Poisons Board because they are poisonous to my emotional and mental state. I take three tablets in the morning and three in the evening after meals. They are called Escalam Kit and they come in this massive, gaudy box that can hold a kitten. They are ugly tablets. When I take them I belch and when I belch I belch out H.Pylori.

I keep telling everyone I meet that I have H Pylori because a) I’m a crybaby and b) I’m a crybaby. You will be surprised at how many people will tell you that they have suffered from H Pylori. H. Pylori is an equal opportunity disease. I’m surprised there is no support group for People Suffering H Pylori.

NO MORE ALCOHOL

The doctor who broke this news to me last week said, “I will put you on some antibiotics which you have to finish after two weeks then you come back for another test to see if it’s cleared. We shall then put you on another drug for maybe another week or two to prevent hyperacidity.” I didn’t ask him what the antibiotics were; in fact, the only thing I heard was “two weeks,” and “another one week or two.”  I asked him, “I hope you are not about to tell me that I can’t take alcohol.” He said “You definitely can’t drink while on this drugs.” I felt the H.Pylori do a victory dance in my gut.

Now, before you start jumping to conclusions, I’m no drunk. I’m a social drinker. Once or twice a week I will nip into a bar with some mates and have two or three doubles of whisky and some buffalo wings. I mean, what use is life if you can’t have wings?  Often, given the nature of my job, I will attend one of those painful cocktail functions where you are required to mingle and network and engage in pretentious small talk. Because small talk galls me, I have to have a drink in my hand in order for me not to blurt what’s on my mind. Which means I will not be attending any cocktail function for work for a month. Hurrah.

STONE COLD SOBER

I have been to the bar a few times since I had the pleasure of having H. Pylori and now I understand why they say “stone cold sober,” because the bar seats are so hard when you are sober. Most importantly, I was amazed at how silly and frivolous people sound when they are drinking. First, when you tell the people you are with that you aren’t drinking because you are on antibiotics they will say, “Oh come on, you can drink when antibiotics, boss. It’s just what doctors say because they are required to say it. It’s like when they tell you to switch off your mobile phones during takeoff.” Note that this is someone in the printing business telling you that, not a doctor.

Very few people make any sense after the fourth drink. Conversation becomes a hole of ridiculous talk and arguments and observations peppered with bravado and phony machismo. When you sit with people who are drinking, you are amazed at how they can be convinced of their own intelligence. Everybody who drinks at some point thinks they are smarter or more learned than everybody else. And the jokes they laugh at are not even funny. The people, on the other hand, are hilarious because of what they say and do.

I remember sitting with some boys one midnight and thinking, “Look at their faces, they look old all of a sudden!” Faces sag and their tongues become heavy. And then they are always texting God knows who. There’s always is a point at which a good looking girl will pass by the table. One will say, “Hi me luv?” in a phony British accent and when the lady stops to engage him he will say, “Come on, join me, these old men here are boring me to death!” and the lady will smile and say, “You are high,” to which he will say, “Maybe, but to my credit I’m also in love.” Then he will try taking the girl’s hand and she will shake it off and walk away, shaking her head and smiling. 

Looking at people get wasted while you sit in your high chair of sobriety is a joy because it’s like looking at yourself in the mirror. I’m just disappointed that took H. Pylori for me to see this.