It's all in your head.
Snarky developed some psychosomatic quirks during her senior year back in Nerd School. She was falling into a mild depression, feeling the strain of separation from her first serious boyfriend (the relationship was a bit co-dependent), and she was at a complete loss as to where/what she wanted to go/do/be after graduation.
About once a month she would come down with symptoms of a particularly virulent stomach virus that didn't exist. Two days of debilitating gastro-intestinal distress then suddenly nothing, and back to her self-imposed hermit-like existance of skipping meals in the cafeteria in lieu of a pseudo-monastic supper of rye bread and onion soup (She's not sure why she settled on this particular combination, it was probably something she picked up from reading The Name of the Rose and/or the better option compared to flagellation.). Naturally her suitemates didn't take any of this seriously and did their best to harrass her into being more sociable.
The psychosomatic weirdness climaxed with a spectacular presentation of a raging case of hives during final exams. Every where her skin was constantly touched - her bra strap, necklines and waistlines, where her low pony tail rested against the nape of her neck, bloomed with red, itchy welts. She added two Benadryls to her rye bread and onion soup communion every night and had nightmares about physics exams and botany practicals.
Eventually her skin cleared and she graduated (probably in that order) and after that traumatic senior semester, nothing quite so extreme happened to her again.
But she remembers that it's possible. A crouching gremlin hiding in her meat and bones, waiting for the right triggers.
Last week The Mister took two days off of work because of stomach problems. Today, a full week later, he's still not quite back to normal. He comes from a family that doesn't always think to go to the doctor until the problem becomes much worse, so Snarky's attempts at getting him to Get Help have been treated as Chiken Little-style freakouts.
Finally, though, he is thinking about seeing his doctor. Even if this ends up being all in his head (his work is approaching a critical turning point this week) she hopes that seeing the doctor will help him somehow.
In the meantime, her own stomach has been a bit sour and sullen as well. Whether it is in sympathy (the closest to synced menses they'll ever get), or due to exposure to him (if it is an actual bug), or due to a whole new resurgence of her old sub-conscious mind/body craziness (always an underlying possiblity), she's unclear. Perhaps she'll never fully focus on the cause. She just hopes the effects for both The Mister and herself go away soon.
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