I wasn’t ashamed to admit my parents had assisted me with it after I’d gone to Mom for help, which was why there were lit candles around the blanket waiting for us when we arrived, with a hamper of food warmed to just the right temperature, too. They’d been watching it all from their car to make sure nothing caught fire and that an animal didn’t eat what’d been prepared for us. They’d left after we’d pulled up, beeping the horn and waving like crazy people at us as they passed.
I could immediately tell Heidi liked what I’d organized, and I felt pretty proud I’d managed to do that.
As we finished eating and after I’d pulled out wet wipes so we could clean our hands off, I broached a subject I’d been trying to find the right words to approach. There was just no way to soften it, though. She’d either be embarrassed, or she’d be immune to it after all of these years and wouldn’t mind discussing it with me. However, it was necessary because I cared about her and didn’t want to cause her any pain if I brought her food.
“I don’t know how embarrassing you’ll find me asking this—and that isn’t my intention at all, I swear—but how does having IBS affect your life?”
Heidi dropped the wipe into the hamper and adjusted how she was sitting to face me. “Um, it all depends. Some foods are an instant trigger for it, but sometimes things do it when you least expect them to.”
“I looked it up online before I got the food together for tonight,” I admitted. “I just didn’t want to exacerbate it and leave you in pain.”
She smiled gently at me. “Yeah, it’s embarrassing talking to you about my bowels,” Heidi sighed and rolled her eyes, “but I’m grateful and touched that you did that.”
Adjusting so I was lying on my side with my head resting on my hand, I beckoned at her to do the same and waited until she was lying next to me, only inches away on the blanket. “Have you had it your whole life?”
“I had issues as a baby with reflux and then had more problems later on when different types of foods were introduced into my diet, but it wasn’t until I was nine that a doctor in South Africa queried if I had IBS or not.
“I was sent to a specialist pediatrician who made the diagnosis and started me on a medication to help. After that, as you grow up, you become more aware of it and how it impacts your life, and I became so careful about what I ate because I had a couple of embarrassing experiences in high school.”
Lifting one of the long brown curls that were resting on her shoulder, I curled it around my finger, smiling slightly when it bounced after I released it. “I can only imagine. I had food poisoning once at school, and I’m assuming it’s a bit like that.”
That’d been one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, trying to run to the bathrooms with my ass cheeks clenched tightly during lunch break. Like that wasn’t bad enough, I’d obviously had diarrhea, effectively clearing out the facilities with people walking out, gagging and coughing, and yelling for someone to call Jesus for me.
“Kind of.”
I knew what she was avoiding talking about: gas. I can’t say I’d be comfortable just coming out and saying it if I was in her shoes, but at the same time, she couldn’t help having the issue. Plus, everyone farts. I had three brothers, so I knew that fact better than most!
“Well, if there’s anything in particular that you avoid, let me know for future reference.”
Heidi plucked at the blanket for a moment, then took a deep breath in. “Hot dairy, especially cheese. That’s a red light for me. I don’t eat many carbohydrates because of it either, and I only eat red meat now and then. Rich sauces are an issue, too, but those are relatively easy to avoid.”
Chewing on her lower lip, she shrugged a shoulder. “And deep fried foods are a problem for me. Thankfully Nemi’s one of those rare kids who doesn’t want fast food that often, so I don’t feel too guilty about avoiding it. It’s more the temptation because I know how good it tastes that’s the problem, and sometimes I’m willing to go through the torture afterward just to get my fix.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you something else embarrassing about myself?”
The question shocked her initially, but then she tilted her head. “Something else?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “I told you I had food poisoning in high school, and everyone knows what that does to you.”
“Ah.” She relaxed slightly and smiled at me. “Go for it. Tell me something embarrassing about yourself.”