How My Gut Ruined Christmas: A Nightmare Testimony

Every Christmas story has its villain. Christmas stories that place the baddie at the centre of the stage with their cool tricks and schemes are abundant, and they all end in the same way: the evil baddie goes through a process of personal transformation that makes him likable by the masses, and they eventually welcome him to celebrate Christmas. 

Well, this story is no different, only it’s not made of fiction, it’s a real-life testimony from one of our users who has been saved from being alone at Christmas, all the while saving everyone else from a monstrous degree of suffering. Let us warn you, folks. This is not a story of stolen presents, a sick Santa, or even Godzilla, no, this is far worse. This story involves a gastric nightmare of toxic gas. You know the kind, don’t make us spell it out. 

Before we go any further, let us take a quiet moment to appreciate the bravery and honesty of the writer who shared this with us; and also take a further moment to commend the poor souls that had to endure these unfortunate happenings before Tony’s miraculous transformation (thanks to JUVIA, of course). 

Without any further, a whiff, here is Tony’s story.

JUVIA saves Christmas (for everybody)   

One of the things I most look forward to at Christmas is the festive feasting. It’s a bit like fasting, but the complete opposite. I try to eat as much as I can in a 24-hour window and worry about the weight gain once the gyms drop their price in January to lure me into a 12-month contract to battle my shame.

I am sure I am not alone in this cycle of gluttony and restriction, but if you are anything like me, there is another villain that haunts me at Christmas, and it’s rarely talked about: food intolerance. 

For those that are not familiar with conditions involving a sensitive tummy, it is basically when your body decides to punish you for eating something it finds difficult to digest. Symptoms vary between people, but for me they commonly involve bloating and extreme gas (to punish everyone else). 

This is usually followed by urgent and repeated bouts on the toilet. You would think this would discourage me from eating my favorite foods, but no, I don’t like to miss out any more than you do. 

Brussel sprouts may not rank high on your list of treats, but there are many like me that enjoy them. For the average human, a brussel sprout produces a gas problem that puts beans to shame. For those that suffer from a sensitive tummy, that problem is enough to put the Pentagon and Nato’s chemical warfare department on high alert. Trust me, it's been hard to tell my girlfriend, who of course shares a bed with me, that Christmas is a time for forgiveness - and I remain on the naughty list for quite some time thereafter. 

I remember our first Christmas together. We had only been dating a short while. As a gentleman and a man concerned for her safety, I made a point of not, under any circumstance, passing wind in her direction. I would either leave the building or hold it in (brewing it further) until I departed her company, only to release a toxic gas on my way home that was so deadly it could kill a baby elephant. 

This all changed on Christmas eve. My girlfriend stayed over at my house for the very first time. As well as the pre-Christmas nibbles, I had a few drinks, which made me a little more relaxed or dare I say, less inhibited. We were in bed, quite asleep until I was rudely awoken by frantic panting with cries of distress. Her arms were waving around hitting at the mattress and tugging the duvet. 

Of course, I was annoyed but also concerned, until she uttered my most dreaded words “oh my god, did you fart”?. I thought, oh boy, the hippo is out the bag, my secret is out. I had no defense. Realising I couldn’t accept it, but also unable to deny it, she stormed out the room, taking the covers with her, but what got me was her final words at the door… “I can’t believe it, you’ve killed Christmas”. 

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself in the ordinary evil super villain fashion, while trying to battle my shame. Fortunately, I have become well accustomed to this response since my childhood, so it wasn’t long before I fell back to sleep. Now, I am not saying, I didn’t, but I certainly don’t remember doing another one, although my farts have been known to hang around like unwanted hippies evoking squatter’s rights. She came back upstairs an hour later in an attempt to find greater comfort than what the sofa could offer, only to be met with a sting-ray’s assault on her nasal passages, which must have felt like an overdose of pharmaceutical grade wasabi because she stormed back out the room shouting “oh my god, it still smells so bad, I hate you right now”. 

I honestly thought our relationship was over, but it seems that I do have some redeemable qualities because we are still together.      

I could share an array of horror stories that would make Lord of the Rings sound like a walk in the park (it kinda was), but I will spare you the gory details. Instead of Gandalph shouting “you shall not pass”, it is often what my gut says to my food before my tummy cramps. Placing my hands on my tummy before uttering “oh-oh” with a wide-eyed glare on my face was normally a cue for others to leap from their seats so fast you would think they were sitting in an ejector seat. It was kind of like musical chairs, but the complete opposite. The last one sitting down next to me suffered immeasurably.  

But, this year is going to be different. I can look forward to eating all the festive jollies without the worry of pain or discomfort. That’s because I have found a remedy that I get to enjoy along with my food that breaks down the evil carbohydrates before they get to my gut. 

This little gut saver is called JUVIA (or my precious, if we are sticking with the theme). The enzyme-rich barley extract is a honey-like liquid taken with food or inside your drink. It can be enjoyed in a smoothie or with yogurt because it tastes so nice. 

JUVIA says it can take 6-8 weeks to ‘climatise’ your body, but I noticed a difference after just 3 servings. Everyone else noticed it immediately. Make no mistake, I tested it against my gut’s arch enemies, pasta (gluten), and tomatoes, and I didn’t bloat at all. 

I know I am too old to write to Santa, and I could probably do with a bike to burn off those extra calories, but if I could write to Santa, I would certainly ask him to fill my stockings with JUVIA instead and probably recommend he try some too - all those mice pies can’t be good for him. 

JUVIA hasn’t just saved Christmas for me, but for everyone now fortunate enough to be in my company. I can now do a “pull-my-finger” joke without clearing the room.