Now I Know Why They Call It Bile

It's bile to rhyme with vile.

I've been feeling off for some time now. Had periodic bouts of what the unfeeling call the 4F disease: female, fat, forty, flatulent. Heart burn. Pain in the right upper abdomen. Biliary disease. Gall bladder. Things escalated. Now its acute long lasting unrelieved pain radiating into the back, low grade fever, chills, nausea, vomiting. I diagnosed myself and went into the doctor for confirmation. I have always found this the best way to operate. Saves time. Saves mistakes. Saves unnecessary tests.

I have seen the little 'pearls' in the ultrasound with my own eyes. There is no doubt. Except, when it will come out. I should hear about that soon. Too bad I'm not an oyster.

All of this, of course, has caused me, word lover that I am, to consider the traditional uses of the word 'bile.' I fully understand how this word came to mean "ill-temper or peevishness." Like the word 'spleen' and other visceral metaphors, bile found its secondary meaning through the ancient attribution of temperament and character traits to bodily functions. Believe me, there is some truth to these superstitions.

I have been increasingly irritable, easily aggravated, impatient, negative and jolly well angry as the weeks have passed. That is why I haven't visited some of your blogs recently. I may spit out invective when I mean to be kind. I may blurt unthinkingly. I may criticize. Blessing is far from my lips.

Now is it chicken or egg? Did my melancholic and choleric leanings foment the disease? Or did the disease create my distemper? Is this vile mood something I should repent of immediately, or trust it will disappear when the surgeon cuts out the offending organ?

Spare me your pity.