Date night(mare)

As I was watching Planet Earth and scrolling through Facebook, I came across this article. While I was reading, I found to be nodding in agreement more than I would of liked to. The article was about having fun while battling with a chronic illness. In my experience, when people see me out and about they often question if I am really sick and they will openly tell me –  “You don’t look sick!” or “If you are ill, you really shouldn’t be doing that!” Well people, I am sick. It took a long time and a few cameras in uncomfortable places to diagnose me. My insides don’t look too pretty! And no, I probably shouldn’t be doing what ever I’m about to but I will of saved my spoons, avoided certain foods and taken my meds to enjoy the moment – which will still be sore. Sigh.

Anyway, enough of the rant… This post while hopefully give you an insight into me venturing out the house for a night. Enjoy!

Last night, the lovely Russell offered to treat me to dinner before heading to a 30th party in Edinburgh. I love eating out (after finding a suitable restaurant – details to follow) and I love a wee dance every now and again so this was a Saturday I was not wasting stuck at home, in my jammies, watching series 7 of Gilmore Girls.

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From about Wednesday, I have been on Google trying to find a place to eat. Things I needed to consider was if it was close to the party venue as walking takes it out me, if they had a wide range of choices even though I am boring and never stray away from anything with more than 3 main ingredients (chicken, cheese, tomato base – Pizza!) and hello anxiety my old friend, how busy the place would be. As I hate making final decisions, Russell had the task of picking from a list of menus I had scrutinised over. Amarone, Bella Italia or throwing a curve ball, El Cartel. (Menu reading is a favourite hobby of mine. I can recite the local Chinese menu of by heart and I am not even ashamed!)

Amarone was the winner.

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So, at around 6pm we jumped on a train to Edinburgh and walked over Princes Street to Amarone. It wasn’t too busy and with a few vodka and cranberries before hand and Russell by my side I was reasonably calm – Unlike my previous meltdown at the Park Bistro a few weeks before. Cringe!

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As I said in a previous post I was going to try and be adventurous so this meant no pizza for me. I was faced either with chicken in a basil sauce with mushrooms and pancetta or spaghetti and meatballs. Chicken won. The waitress did  bring over an accidental pizza before hand – it was like she could sense my fear of what was to come! However, I’m glad I got the chicken as it was a solid 8/10 dish unlike Russell’s carbonara  which was a bit lukewarm and tasteless. Being my dinner date though, means he always gets a meal and a half.

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Now, with always sticking to the same restaurants you know things, like where the toilets are. As I had never been to Amarone before, I underestimated the trek it would be to use the loo. As I went through one door, down a set of never ending spiral stairs, along a corridor and through another two doors, I arrived at the ladies. I was at the point of doing the jiggly dance and thinking Russell better still love me if we get asked to leave because I have no bladder control and wee’d on the floor! Luckily, a cubicle was available and I darted in with my tights nearly already at my ankles. I have no shame! Disaster of wet knickers and getting renamed Miss Pee Pants was just avoided. Phew. Our night could continue along to the Voodoo Rooms.

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As we had just ate, this is usually when my stomach decides to make whale noises while it’s doing it’s magic digesting. As before, I am not embarrassed by this. Before I would constantly apologise at every grumble it made, now I laugh. So I was walking into a room with my whale sounding, bloated stomach.. Great first impressions!

Russell got us both a drink and I started to relax, while eyeing up the buffet food. I love a party, and I love it even more when there is a buffet. There was pizza and chicken satays so I was rather pleased for all of 5 minutes before sitting down when the pain in my side returned which was not a welcomed addition to the party atmosphere. I am a crier, I cry easily so it took all my might to hold back the tears and snot. The pain has been measured the same pain as labour so I am pretty much having labour pains.. every… friggin… day! I held it together, thanks to Russell. I owe him big time. The pain eased, probably thanks to the few vodkas I had and I was able to carry my night on to the best nightclub in Scotland, Code (joking!)

Today, I was very tired and Russell was slightly fragile so it was the perfect excuse to lie on the couch, eat beige food (I am sure I keep Birdseye in business) and start on the Christmas movies.

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I have posted pictures on Facebook which looks like I am having the time of my life. When actually I am dealing with labour pains (ha!) I would say about 60% of my night I was sore. However, I don’t want to be defined by Crohn’s so when I can, I will still continue to live my life the best way I can.

PS. Everyone who has Crohn’s suffers differently. I am fine to drink alcohol in moderation. Salad on the other hand is a no no!

x

 

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