Word of the week

dyspepsia (dĭs-pěp'shə) - 1. Disturbed digestion; indigestion 2. a disorder of digestive function characterized by discomfort or heartburn or nausea

dyspeptic (dĭs-pěp'tĭk) - 1. Pertaining to, subject to, or suffering from dyspepsia; 2.Gloomy, pessimistic and irritable, n. a person subject to or suffering from dyspepsia.

This is the term the GP used yesterday to describe the symptoms I was reporting (yet again) in the last couple of weeks. She used it to differentiate the upper part of the digestive tract from the lower which is more likely to be associated with irritable bowel syndrome, which, while a very glamorous blog post topic, does not appear to be what I suffer from. And let me just inform you dear reader, that each year, this tricky bloody tract seems to knock your Aunty B just that bit harder. I am teetering on the edge of blogging all symptoms tests and treatments to try to make some sense of the whole thing and perhaps capture the medical wisdoms of mermaidgrrrl (after she's delivered a healthy baby and back to her own usual rosy state of health of course).

But for now, let me retreat into metaphor. In a freaky intercontinental convergence dyspepsia is the word chosen just a few days ago by Momus to describe his reaction to a new blog which focuses on marketing, market research and the consumer-over-all culture of the world. A term closely related to bilious, also both an emotional and physical state. Two well justified responses in a nation whose governments pays for fighter jets over climate change strategies, where we have a seemingly flexible approach to human rights and torture of citizens, where we do energy efficiency by flier drop, and where Dancing with the Stars is our top rating TV show (for example).

So in the last 24 hours or so I have enough time in a doctor's waiting room, a pathology lab and a cafe to get through two editions of Marie Clare, one of Who, one of New Weekly and one of New Woman, all in Sydney's highest income belt. Page after page of belts, A-line skirts, patent heel shoes, natural-look makeup, party-look makeup, win Cameron Diaz's outfit, win Kylie's new fragrance, win a summer wardrobe, how to survive the sales, how to avoid a yeast overload (strictly vodka with no sugar mixer apparently), where to get a bling watch, look at the pretty shiny things ladies, look! look! It was like a whirlwind of glitter and frou and razzle and dazzle not to mention the endless parade of Brit, J-lo, Lindsey, Liz, Gwen, Kylie, Nic and Paris. Boobies! Eyebrows! Bellies! Hair! Skin tone! Eyeshadow, darling eyeshadow. With sparkles. So much lip gloss you could just drown in it, become engrossed, swallow it whole, drink it down and and keep on swallowing. So maybe the cure for my ills lies not in the actual tests in these labs - blood tests, breath tests,* and wot not, its in the magazines. Read them, read them, stop analysing, stop chewing it over, stop bringing stuff up, stop with the dyspeptic disposition young lady. Not to want to labour a point or anything.

*nb - it'll be iron , various vitamin b levels, liver function, and heliobacter being sought out this time, for medi-nerds out there. Next might be a camera down the gullet. Stay tuned for more blog fun if that happens.