Grin, Bear It, and Gaviscon.

Seeing as how it’s been SUCH a long time since I posted, I wanna type a rockem-sockem kinda blog, but alas, it hasn’t been a rockem-sockem kinda week. It’s been an interesting week, what with my little brotha and his little friend (nineteen year olds are so cute! Awww, coochie coochie…) coming from the States. There’s also been loads of other stuff going on, and it turns out that I have stress-induced dyspepsia, isn’t that exciting! Between the chaos of trying to plan a trip and trying to entertain house guests and trying to buy gifts for everyone on a budget my stomach is trying to digest itself.

Ironic and amusing as that may seem, it’s a bit unsettling and more often than not- it’s nauseating. I don’t know why I’m bothering to write about it except that it’s been bothering me. I get a phone call in which someone asks me when the trip is. As I answer them, I remember that so much is unfinished and so many aspects of the trip are uncertain, and then I get a kick in the stomach. That’s what it feels like anyway. Then I have to wander over to the refrigerator and drink a bottle of antacid. (Gaviscon, yum.) I’ve also been on pump-inhibitors for weeks, which in laymen’s term means medicine that will tell my hyper-enthusiastic stomach to not put out quite so much acid, thank you very much. Man, I need a vacation from planning this vacation.

I shouldn’t complain though, really. I should just grin and bear it, because if I maintain that life is a test, then I shouldn’t be so averse to being tested. Logically that’s what my mind is saying- my mind is going, “Is this it? Is this the best the world can throw at me? Bring it on!” but my stomach is going *gurgle?* and then pumping out four times too much of the burning stuff. Luckily for me though, the stomach is not in charge and I refuse to be brought down! Ha! Allah stresses us and tests us in the same way that a smith will smelt metal, burning away the baser elements and refining what is precious, so if life seems to resemble a trial-by-fire of late, remember that it’s because Allah allowed it to, and because the pain is an exchange for previous sins. And since I have rather a lot of sins, I’ll just be content to grin- to bear it- to drink more Gaviscon.

Alhamdulillah 🙂


Abez is a 50% white, 50% Pakistani, and 100% Muslim. She is also chronically ill and terminally awesome. She is the ever-lovin Momma of: - Khalid, a special little boy with autism - Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair -Musfira, an especially devious baby Spoiler, Abez is also Zeba Khan on

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