Norovirus brings us together, (not for the squeamish).

Recorded in York.

Photo by Edgardo Lagmay.


Okay, so basically maybe about three months ago. I was lying in bed, and this was like not long after I had glandular fever. So I was like ill quite a lot. And I was like spending quite a lot of time in bed anyway. So it got to like about maybe five o’clock in the evening. And I’d said to my friend that I was going to go around and visit her. But then I was suddenly like, I slept a bit, and then I woke up again, and I was suddenly just like “Do you know? I really feel quite queasy, like, I don’t feel very well”. So I called her and I was like “Look, I’m really sorry. I just don’t think I can come round”. And she was like “Yeah alright” and then she sounded kind of like off with me. But I was just like “whatever” like I genuinely felt sick.

And then I started like dry heaving for ages, but I did it like loads and loads and loads of times. So I was like, well, I can’t be going to get sick then because like, if I’ve dry heaved this much it would have happened. So I was just like “Fuck it, I might just try and go back to sleep and like hope that I feel better”. So I was like lying in bed, and then suddenly I was just like “Oh my god, I’m going to get really, really sick right now”. So I like dashed to the toilet – I actually feel quite nauseous now… I might actually get sick while telling the story – Yeah so sorry, so I went back to bed and I was like lying there. And I was like “God, I don’t feel better at all. Like, if anything, I actually feel worse.” And I was lying there like “oh this isn’t nice”. You know when you just know something’s gone wrong with your body? I was like “Something bad is about to happen to me”.

So anyway then I was suddenly like consumed with the desire to poo. So I was like “Right, I’ve got to get to the toilet right now”. So I ran to the toilet, and someone had just got in there and like locked it. So I was like “Oh my God”. So in a blind panic I ran back to my room, got sick like about three times all over the floor, then sat down, peed myself and started crying. And then – so it gets worse – my flatmate came in and she was like “Cec, the toilet’s free now” like “go to the toilet like, I’ll clean up the sick”. And I was like “Okay, okay” and I was like crying, I was shaking, like I had the shivers. So I went into the toilet and sat down, and honestly just like an ocean of poo spilled from me. It was literally the most disgusting thing I think that’s ever happened to me.

I’m not going to go into too much detail because you look kind of disgusted, but let’s just say it was horrible. Anyway, and then I was like, I need to be sick again. So I got up and like turned around, and then I started getting sick. And I was like sick sick sick sick… And while I was being sick I had this vague notion that I was pooing. But like, I was too consumed with being sick. I was like “Well whatever” you know “I’ll just have to deal with this afterwards”. So I’m like being sick, and then finally it subsides. So I turn around and like collapse onto the toilet like shaking, weak. And then I just looked across, and like the whole wall, window sill, floor… was just covered in a swamp of the most foul-smelling shit you’ve ever smelled. And I was just like “Oh my god” and I was already really emotional and crying. But this made me cry even more.

And then I just picked up my phone, which like Liv brought with me, called my boyfriend. And he answered and was like “Hello?” and I just went “Andrew, I’ve pooed on the wall”. And he went “Okay”. And then like five minutes later, there was a knock on the bathroom door and he was like “Baby can I come in?”. So I opened the door and I was like crying. He just came in and there was just poo everywhere, honestly. But he was so so sweet about it. He’d brought with him like rubber gloves… like because he works in a restaurant, he brought the kitchen industrial disinfectant. And I was sitting on the toilet like pooing while being sick into a bin, while he literally just got down on his hands and knees and cleaned up like the whole ocean of poo. And then I went to bed, and then I had a two litre bottle of 7up. And then I woke up in the morning, and I felt fine, and I had mashed potato. So that’s the story of when I had norovirus. And it was horrible. But I actually think that it weirdly was one of the most romantic things that’s ever happened to me. The end. Isn’t it quite romantic though?

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