Having been raised as a preacher's daughter, living in the deep South, the oldest of 9 kids, we never seemed to have enough food. More often than not, I got up from the supper table still hungry.

One day Mom let me go and spend an afternoon with my friend Mary Jo. She lived in a big white house with her Dad, her Mom was only home on weekends because she was a nurse in a hospital in Mobile. So me and Mary Jo pretty much did whatever we felt like doing, either chasing the dogs or teasing the horses with flyswatters or laying on our backs ruining our eyes by looking straight at the sun.

This particular day Mary Jo wanted us to pick pecans from the tree in the front yard and have a contest to see who could eat the most. Since I was always hungry, I figured I would be the sure winner, so I set about picking and shucking and eating as fast as I could. I figure I ate abut a bushel of them, and for once my belly was full. I won, of course, and then Mary Jo and I lay together on the wooden swing, her bare feet in my face and mine in hers.

That night something terrible happened - my belly went into the most awful pain and I cried and writhed and Mom put a hot water bottle on it but still it cramped and knotted itself into a ball of fire. I had chills. I had a headache. I could barely breathe. After a while Mom gave up with the hot water bottle and laid on the bed beside me. I vomited on my pillow and was ashamed of myself but I couldn't help it. I saw that the vomit was a mess of chewed pecans. More came up. Things began to settle down some after that, although the cramping in my bowels still made me cry.

That was the first time I ever had a spastic colon. I've had it since and it always makes me think I ate too dern many pecans and some are still with me.

© 2013 Just Lynne - 3/5/13

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