Yes my friends, it’s true. Another Friday Without Science. And we just had one not that long ago, too!

But there just has not been enough truly interesting science stories lately to justify doing an FSW, and so I will skip this week and catch up with all you science fans next week, hopefully.

Plus there is the fact that I am sick. That sleepy old monster Irritable Bowel Syndrome woke up and is giving me trouble today.

I knew I was in for a rough patch when I realized how blocked up and backed up I had become. Sometimes the syndrome causes a “soft blockage” when the lower intestine becomes inflamed and irritated, which makes the passage narrower and more likely to spasm or contract.

But the thing is, there is a significant delay between the onset of this issue and the symptoms it will eventually cause. It’s usually at least half a day and sometimes even more before any serious cramping or pain occurs, and by then all I can do is stay hydrated and ride it out.

What happens (this is going to be a bit gross, skip to “All clear!” if squeamish) is that the soft blockage causes the digested food to clog the pipe somewhat, which causes the contents of the pipeline to compress, turning into a bolus and furthering the blockage. This also causes all the liquid in the contents to be squeezed out, causing a lot of urinary need and, eventually, very dry stools.

None of this is good for the system and it takes a while to sort itself out, during which time I am at the mercy of swinging cycles of congestion and release.

And because the bolus has to pass first, what tends to happen is that I can feel something like a fist inside me that slowly moves down and, mercifully, out.

During a period like this, hydration is vital. The problem wreaks havoc with your hydration levels and you can end up losing a lot of water that never got properly absorbed in the lower intestine. We don’t realize it in our daily lives, but we get around 20 percent of the water we need from the food we eat.

Also, of course, drinking enough water keeps the whole system lubricated. That’s extra important when things are inclined to end up backed up.

All in all, it means I do not have the most reliable plumbing down there, but luckily, serious or even moderate symptoms are pretty rare for me. I am very familiar with how my particular syndrome works and I know how to handle its various manifestations.

The most important thing is to keep calm. Stress has a strong effect on the tension level in your gut, and the last thing I need is more tension down there right now.

So while I feel pretty crappy right now (no pun intended), I know it soon shall pass and I will have a lovely if brief euphoric period while I bask in the endorphins.

ALL CLEAR, squeamish people! Wow, that went on longer than I thought it would. Sorry about that. I guess I focus on the science of it all as a way to soothe myself.

Yes, I am such a nerd that science comforts me like a security blanket. Some people have faith. Some people have strength.

Me, I have science. It might not be the warmest companion but it’s always lots of fun.

Anything else… hmm. Still feeling that strange combination of calmness and tension, although not as bad as the last time I mentioned it. Perhaps this attack of IBS is a wakeup call telling me that I need to pay more attention to what is going on inside my psyche as well as my guts. Something is brewing in there and I feel like it may be something pretty big.

I talked about shedding my skin before, and it might well be that. If so, I wish I could just take a knife and split open that rotten old skin so I could speed this process on a little.

I am eager to emerge from this cocoon of mine, spread my wings to dry them in the sun, and then fly away to bigger and better things.

But part of me is not sure it is completely done being a caterpillar yet. After all, I have been one for far, far too long, and it is all I have ever known. I have adjusted to being a caterpillar. I can cope as a caterpillar. I have friends as a caterpillar. I can get through the day as a caterpillar.

So no matter how wondrous and golden a butterfly future might seem, the truth is that deep down, I am still too scared to try it. And so, I remain a bloated and very ancient caterpillar.

I cling so hard to what I have that I can’t let go long enough to find a better perch. And the more scared I am, the harder I cling, and that is a really big problem when what you are clinging to is the problem.

I have this growing feeling of frustration with my own mindless mentation. I know that the solutions to my problems lie outside the realm of the rational and intellectual, and yet I continue to try to analyze and solve my problems as though they were some kind of puzzle.

And you can do a real job on yourself by convincing yourself that doing that is progress. After all, you feel a lot better once you have figured things out, so it must be doing some good, right?

But not all activity is progress, and all this running around in circles is doing for me is wearing a hole in the ground.

The problem is, I feel like I don’t really know the way out. I have lived within the world of my own rational mind for so long that I find it hard to imagine there being anything else.

I have not entered the darkness within in a very long time.

And I’m afraid of the dark.