That pun took 5 minutes out of my busy day of not eating to come up with. You’re welcome. Today’s the day that they add some caffeine to the party in my large intestine. We have to slowly feed 2 litres of coffee into our colon, then hold it there for 12-15 minutes before (that euphemism again) expelling it from our quivering sphincters. In theory, the coffee stimulates our colons and moves through the intestine through peristalsis, thereby reaching the parts that other enemas don’t quite reach. The science of this seems questionable in the extreme, but anything that going to inspire rancid crap to fall out of my arse at a giddy rate is something that I’m willing to try. 2 litres of coffee though. I don’t even drink coffee. I don’t even really drink tea. We’re assured it’s high-quality organic coffee (none of Fatty McChub’s BA muck here) but this seems rather a steep mountain to climb. We THEN still have to do our usual 5 gallon water colonic to ensure all the coffee – and accompanying debris – is flushed out.
As it turns out, I manage to hold about a litre for about 10 minutes. It’s about as much fun as you’d imagine administering a litre of coffee rectally would be and I’m fed up of the whole process by the time my 5-gallon water bucket is empty. I’m also getting slightly suspicious that every day they fill me up with varying quantities of dark green and grey liquids, only for dark green and grey matter to land into my sieve with unerring regularity. Where are my thick black ropes of 20 year-old undigested filth?
I’m also feeling irritatingly fine. Irritating for my fellow fasters. Everything I’ve ever read about a colonic fast indicates that Day 3 is worse than all the circles of Hell combined, with a side order of relentless, jaw-dropping misery. Typical symptoms are: light-headedness, fatigue, irritability, obsessive cravings, rancid stench emanating from every pore, total lack of energy, cold-symptoms, rashes, allergies. The list honestly goes on, but it’s time for vegetable broth soon and I’m not about to pass up the opportunity of almost-food for the sake of typing a list that you can look up on the internet (did you look up a colema board yet? Go on, I dare you). Anyway, I have literally none of the above. The others all hit a massive slump on Day 3, I’m doing my best not to feel smug and keep pretending to have symptoms, but I’m not really pulling it off. Hopefully they won’t throw me on a barbecue and sacrifice me to the fast gods. I’d still like some toast and Marmite, but it’s hardly my every waking thought. And I had a slight headache earlier that disappeared as soon as I realised I had it. This is great for me, although if I’m honest, the part of me that seems infused with feminine machismo – an oxymoron I know – feels slightly short-changed. If I didn’t have the predicted low, am I going to get the expected euphoric high post-fast? Although if this is my greatest worry after 3 days of no food and daily anal drainage, what the hell am I complaining about?
Speaking of complaining, Shaz and Colette left today. Shaz lost a mere 6lbs of her target 14. I am convinced she was wolfing Mars bars during her colonics. That woman had weight to spare, the idea of her only losing 6lbs after 7 days of not eating is just bizarre. So she had plenty to say about her disappointment. The 72 hours I spent with her consisted of a litany of black marks against this place. In the top ten of these was the lack of evening excursions. She’s at a retreat. Up a mountain. Nowhere on the schedule did it say:
8pm: Zapping
9pm: Rave until dawn
and yet she seemed to feel extraordinarily hard-done-by that we weren’t all off to a disco every night. Shaz was 51 by the way.
Before they left, Colette – whose reason for coming on this holiday continues to baffle me but she came in mighty useful when she showed me the tit-lift that she had 10 years ago and recommended a surgeon for when mine need propping up – told me that Shaz got up too quickly from her first colonic and ended up spraying shit all over the floor. Which she left for the staff to clean up. I like to think they got their revenge by substituting her Colon Cleanse with Weight Gain powder.
Right. Broth beckons. What a lucky girl I am.
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