Y’know, my frequent bouts with various stomach ailments have finally been diagnosed in a possible pre-ulcer condition. Last week, the doctor took blood samples and had the lab do a variety of tests, most of which proved I’m fairly healthy. But my H. pylori antibodies were high, so he has prescribed for me a two-week course designed to utterly destroy the evil, ulcer-causing bacteria.
The thing is, this drug regimen is probably the suckiest, worst regimen I have ever had to undergo. Four pills (large ones!) twice a day, three of which are two separate antiobiotics, one of which is amoxicillin, which has previously had negative consequences on my digestive tract. So I take these four horse-pills before breakfast, then again twelve hours later, and man, something’s leaving this nasty aftertaste (I blame the antibiotics) throughout the day.
On the other hand, it ought to get rid of the evil, nasty, ulcer-causing H. pylori that dares reside in my duodenum. So, in Jewish mother parlance, I’ll suffer.
There is a battle going on in my innards. The barbarians are going to be beaten back, and peace (and a calm stomach) will be restored.
H. pylori must die.