Managing distress.

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In the early hours of what is called ‘today’, as I lay drowning in a disturbed half-sleep, I became troubled by a vague yet discernible episode of gastric distress. It culminated not in any troublesome issue from the gastric system for which I am grateful, but the sense of foreboding has lingered with me all day. I ate only a paltry breakfast and luncheon so as not to give my inward parts any unnecessary stress - even bowels need a rest from time to time, and as the hour of the evening meal approaches I’m becoming a little bit anxious. Chicken in a spicy tomato sauce with couscous could be intestinally problematic, but I will be cautious rather than abstemious, and ingest only enough to keep my strength up. Later I shall imbibe a medicinal dose of whiskey and I should be right as rain for my visit to the dentist tomorrow to be fitted with new false teeth.