I haven’t been home much this weekend. Errands, a lunch w/ friend, a new television machine (even though i haven’t watched television shows in years), running both Friday and Saturday and then dancing Saturday night.
So i was looking forward to having a nice, simple meal. Fish, crabcake, brocolli, silence. I guess i got as much of the latter as anyone can get around here and was enjoying the former.
I eventually went to bed.
The thing about my GI tract is this- if i eat something bad, it will take precisely six hours before my body goes into full revolt. Normally this requires a few sessions of sitting down and letting things run their course- and that’s how this began. THEN after trying to sleep again (ha!), i get a sensation i rarely get. Saliva is pouring into my mouth at a prodigious rate and it’s not even a question of if i can hold it down.
Here’s a bachelor tip for you guys and gals: if you’re going to vomit and the thought of kneeling at your toilet doesn’t sit well with you (no pun), your tub is a WHOLE lot easier to hit. It’s super easy to clean up afterward if you have a shower head on a hose. I hate the sensation of vomiting. I’ve learned to gasp for air a few times before the inevitable arrives. As you may suspect, fish doesn’t taste nearly as good the second time as one would hope. Not nearly.
And after a few contractions of this, i tried to go back to bed. The rest of my night consisted of cold sweats, interrupted by the occasional urge to run to the bathroom so i could do my best impersonation of the Bellagio fountains.
I wake up at 8, thinking the worst is behind me. It is. The thought of coffee doesn’t sit well with me so i ponder some Gatorade and some canned peaches instead. I get home and realize not only am i unable to get warm, but my heart is crunking away inside of me. It’s not as bad as some other times but it’s bad, real bad. Crunk, crunk, crunk… My body is riddled with aches and i cannot seem to fully wake up nor can i get comfortable if i lay down.
Why? Well, other reasons aside, when i do, my mouth begins to fill with saliva and i have only a few seconds to make it to the bathroom. I have to say, though, vomiting up a tin of peaches is far more pleasant than experiencing partially digested fish. I mean, if you’re going to have to endure this, it may as well taste better, right? It’s kind of like a time at my ex’s house where i had to vomit (not from her cooking, mind you). I remember as it’s all coming out of me at velocity that i’m thinking, “Wow! Those beans taste REALLY good.” And they were but even so, once would have been enough. It’s just that the bonus wasn’t so bad, either.
I feel wretched but i feel better. My hands still can’t get warm, my body aches, i think i’m running a fever of sorts and i my noodle throbs. Oh well, as with most other things, this will pass too. I just ate yet another can of peaches just in case, though.