DO OR DIE

Sipping on cocktails and applying final coats of lipstick, there was chatter from the next room.

It was September 2012, I was 22 and on a girls’ holiday to the US – we’d explored LA and San Francisco, and now, the bright lights of Vegas were waiting for us

‘Come on Beth, let’s go!’ my friends called, eager to head out for the evening.

‘I’ll be right out,’ I groaned.

While the girls had spent ages in our hotel room perfecting their dresses and makeup, I’d spent the last half an hour sat on the loo.

For the past few days, I’d found myself needing the loo a lot more than usual.

While my bowel movements weren’t painful, they came with urgency, had already interrupted many cocktail evenings and late night gossip with the girls.

Tummy trouble controlled my life

It’s probably, I thought to myself, reaching for the loo roll.