Lol. Reminds me when I was in my late 30s and had fisticuffs with breast cancer. I'd always been a windy baby, so my mother always said, but during and after chemo, wow... I was like a hovercraft. It was especially difficult and slightly hilarious that when I went for dinner in the day hospice, all I could think of whilst trying to enjoy the gorgeous food they served, was "Why in the actual fook is my arse continually floating above the seat! I could never get through a meal there without bouts of hysterical laughter. I think they thought I was quite mad. 'But in the end, in Wonderland, we're all quite mad' 