Since there are no good pictures for this post (Thank Goodness) I’m just going to share a few of my favorites that I haven’t gotten to show you yet.
I hope my crappy time (pun so intended) in Ireland will help to brighten your Monday. When I started writing in college, we were warned: you’ll be bearing your heart and soul to strangers. They never mentioned that I would be sharing my obscure digestive issues as well.
I’ve told you how much I absolutely adored Ireland and it was all true, but what I didn’t share until now, is that the entire time we were there I was very, very sick. I don’t know if I had caught a stomach bug or something more ominous in the hospital in England (you can read about that ordeal here), but I was very ill. I didn’t know a person could have so much liquid expelled from their body. There were demons coming out of every end.
The un-subsiding nausea was difficult on the winding country roads that I loved so much. Hiking up to the top of the Cliffs of Moher was nearly impossible. Spending a night out pub-crawling was a huge mistake. Given the chance I would do it all again, but I was definitely pushing my limits.
It’s a sad thing to be so sick while in a country that you desperately want to experience. I tried my best to not let my condition ruin our trip, because if my trip was ruined so was everyone else’s.
Things were the worst the last two nights of our trip. I had lost about ten pounds in the few days that we were in Ireland. My jeans no longer fit—I could hold them away from my hips and see my knees. I was violently shaking and couldn’t stop being sick. The bed and breakfast we were staying in had some unfortunate plumbing issues. Jeremy and I were in one room and Sam and Esther were in the room directly across the hall. When I would get sick and flush the toilet, rather than going off to sewer-land where it was supposed to go—it ended up in their toilet. Apparently this started some conversations in their room, them accusing each other of not flushing the toilet. Haha!
So the night went on—us flushing crap back and forth between the rooms. (I cannot believe I am telling you this story!) Anyhow, our last night in Ireland I was so sick we actually contemplated skipping Paris and staying in Ireland so I could go to the doctor. That idea was so tempting, but I knew that if I chose for us to stay no one would get to see Paris. Trust me, you don’t want to be the reason your friends don’t get to visit Paris.
So, the next morning, although I could hardly walk, we boarded our plane to the most romantic city in the world.