Even my stool is an underachiever.
The Power of Poop–or its author, Tracy Mac–wrote me back this morning to tell me that, because I take an antidepressant–a low dose, for PMS! But still!–I am not a fit candidate for fecal donation.
Thanks so much for your offer of help…However the [medication] would be an issue if you take it for a mental health problem as there are links between unbalanced microbiota and mental health issues. I know that sounds difficult to believe, but there is now a great deal of research to support this. Gut problems don’t always manifest as diarrhea or constipation.
It seems that my gut flora aren’t, in the end, all that. If they were, I’d be a perfect picture not just of bodily health, but of happiness, equanimity, and mental balance. Well screw you, microbes. You’re clearly snoozing on the job. I am rescinding your blue ribbons, and replacing them with pink ones. Or white. Or tiny tin badges that just say “nice try.”
I am devastated. Crushed. Morose.
And slightly relieved.
Onwards and upwards. Perhaps next time I’ll just give some blood.
I can think of plenty of other uses for your donations. I realize that this is not a political blog and my goal is not to offend any of your possibly more conservative readers, but a nice healthy “delivery” on Sarah Palin’s doorstep sounds like a fine way of disposing of such…disposables.
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