《美食祈祷和恋爱》Chapter 100 (239):运动过度

But All the fun and games caught up with me after a few weeks. After all those nights of not sleeping and all those days of too much lovemaking, my body struck back and I got attacked by a nasty infection in my bladder. A typical affliction of the overly sexed, especially likely to strike when you're not used to being overly sexed anymore. It came up as fast as any tragedy can strike. I was walking through town one morning doing some chores when suddenly I was buckled over with burning pain and fever. I'd had these infections before, during my wayward youth, so I knew what it was. I panicked for a moment—these things can be awful—but then thought, "Thank God my best friend in Bali is a healer," and I ran into Wayan's shop.

"I'm sick!" I said.

She took one look at me and said, "You sick from making too much sex, Liz."

I groaned, buried my face in my hands, embarrassed.

She chuckled, said, "You can't keep secrets from Wayan . . ."

I was in godawful pain. Anyone who's ever had this infection knows the dreadful feeling; anyone who hasn't experienced this specific suffering—well, just make up your own torturous metaphor, preferably using the term "fire poker" someplace in the sentence.

Wayan, like a veteran firefighter or an ER surgeon, never moves fast. She methodically started chopping some herbs, boiling some roots, wandering back and forth between her kitchen and me, bringing me one warm, brown, toxic-tasting concoction after another, saying, "Drink, honey . . ."

Whenever the next batch boiled, she would sit across from me, giving me sly, dirty looks and using the opportunity to get nosy.

"You careful not to get pregnant, Liz?"

"Not possible, Wayan. Felipe has a vasectomy."

"Felipe has a vasectomy?" she asked, in as much awe as if she were asking, "Felipe has a villa in Tuscany?" (I feel the same way about it, by the way.) "Very difficult in Bali to get a man to do this. Always the woman problem, birth control."

(Although it is true that the Indonesian birth rates are down lately due to a brilliant recent birth control incentive program: the government promised a new motorcycle to every man who would volunteer to come in for a vasectomy . . . though I hate to think the guys had to ride their new bikes home the same day.)

可是在几个礼拜后，所有的寻欢作乐使我自食其果。那些不眠之夜，那些做太多爱的日子，使我的身体开始反扑，我的膀胱严重感染。一种过度性爱的典型病症，尤其在你不再习惯过度性爱的时候，更易遭受侵袭。它就像任何悲剧般迅速来袭。某天早上我走过镇上办理杂务，灼痛与发烧突然袭来。我在轻狂的年轻时代曾有过这些感染，因此知道是怎么回事。我惊恐片刻——这种事很可能变得很严重——而后心想："谢天谢地，我在巴厘岛最好的朋友是位治疗师。"于是跑进大姐的店里。

"我生了病！"我说。

大姐看了我一眼，说："小莉，你生病，因为做太多爱。"

我呻吟，把脸埋在手中，很不好意思。

她咯咯笑说："你瞒不了大姐……"

我痛得要命。感染过的人都很清楚这种可怕的感觉；至于未曾体验过这种痛苦的人——请构想你自己的痛苦比喻，最好在句子里使用"拨火棍"这词儿。

大姐就像资深消防员或急诊室医师，总是从从容容的。她开始有条不紊地切药草，煮根茎，游走于厨房和我之间，给我一帖又一帖温热、棕色、味道有如毒药的煎药，说："亲爱的，喝了吧……"

每逢一帖药正在煎煮时，她便坐在我对面，神情淘气地利用机会追问。

"你小心不要怀孕吧，小莉？"

"不可能，大姐。斐利贝做了结扎。"

"斐利贝做了"结扎"？"她问道，对此敬畏三分，仿佛问的是，"斐利贝在托斯卡纳有栋别墅？"（顺便一提，我也有相同的感觉。）在巴厘岛要男人做这件事非常困难。避孕向来是女人的问题。

（印尼生育率近来的确有下降趋势，源于最近实施的一套避孕奖励计划：政府答应提供一部新机车给每一位自愿动结扎手术的男人……尽管我可不敢想象这些男人必须在"手术同一天"骑新机车回家。）