When we got back from Bali last week and went through customs, we declared a couple of sets of wooden beads and five packs of sultanas, all of which we were allowed to keep. What we didn’t realise at the time was that Tilly was also bringing in a bunch of little illegal immigrants, all stowed away comfortably along the walls of her large intestine.
Sadly for her (and us), having reached their destination, her bacterial refugees have started abandoning ship at fairly regular intervals (luckily only via the rear exit), and since they have been breeding on board there has been a never ending stream of them (I choose my words carefully).
The boffins at the poo lab (who thankfully work much faster than the department of immigration) have already given these illegals a name – Campylobacter. Wikipedia tells us that Campylobacter are usually self-limiting and symptoms typically last for 5-7 days. In other words, the twisted little bastards should all have gone by now. They have not.
Needless to say, she has not been a happy camper*, swinging between lethargy and distress, depending on whether it is dehydration or abdominal cramping that are in the ascendancy. While her parents just keep asking themselves what they were thinking taking a crawling baby to Bali.
Poor Tilly also had an unrelated visit to emergency this week, but I might save that story up for another post (or, since the story makes me look like such an incompetent parent, I might just keep it to myself).
So until then (or not)…
*unintended pun, and thus not a sign of insensitivity.