I love my friends. But let’s be honest: They can be fucking disgusting. Only a true friend can say that, and I am saying that with my whole deformed chest.
IBS? Total shitshow when we go out.
Gastroparesis? Yeah, I lost a new sweater when my bestie barfed on it.
After I sacrificed my hoodie on the altar of friendship (This bitch borrowed it, and her feeding tube leaked all over it!), I put my drop foot down and let her know that I’d do it again, but she’s still gross!
The beauty of having a supportive spoonie friend is that I know I can remind her of how disgusting she is until she is the nursing home’s most notorious patient. We don’t hold back our mutual hatred of our guts, problem foods, and insurance, and our shared commiseration about flare-ups brings us closer together. There’s nobody who can relate to me more than my best friend – thus nobody can roast me as fiercely either.
Sometimes laughing together is the only thing getting me through, and how can you NOT laugh at some of these things? I mean, what do you MEAN I have thunderous farts when I eat eggs?!
At the end of the day, I’ll always be there to laugh, crack a joke, and pass the wet wipes.