Fair Warning. This post is essentially about being sick for a week. Not interested? I cannot blame you at all. I wasn't. Still ain't.
It is - what? - day 5 and I am STILL in travail. A horror, I tell you. A miserable horror that I can only imagine is marginally better than death.
Monday 11p: "Honey, I feel like crap..."
Monday 11:30p: Duodenum declines to receive any further immigrants.
Tuesday 12:45a: "Raalllppphhh! Uh...oh, no-no-nonono - wait!!..."
Tuesday 2:30a: Febral and thinking distantly that I should have cleaned the bathroom floor this past weekend.
Tuesday 3:34a "Thank God for a cold floor..."
Tuesday 5:00a "Raalllppphhh! Uh - oh, no-no-nonono - wait!!...Damn it!"
Well, I guess you get the point. This PLAGUE baffled me with its breadth and depth of disgusting putrifaction. If I feel even slightly unwell, a cup of mint tea and slow rubbing of the belly usually results in a restful sleep followed by an uncomfortable but brief toilette.
There was no bargaining with this. I paced back and forth, I prepared the area, getting the moist cloth and setting the extra mat nearby to cushion the position. All this I managed whilst still begging for it all to go away. I was trebly baffled by the speed of the assault. The fever, the sickness, the weakness...
Day after day, I waited for improvement. Wednesday was better but then came the...well...I sure could have used a gastro professional's advice. No matter how fast or often the gas was released it would just regenerate in my belly. And the noises! It was as though every inch of my innards was releasing something and digesting it. ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT. I could hardly eat for the pressure. It was a few spoons of hot cereal here, an egg and toast there over the course of the week.
Only today could I manage more than that, determined to beat this after being unable to get a doctor appointment. I woke Trooper far too early after a late shift, needing a breakfast to fight this beast. I would give it something to digest, damn it, no matter how full it felt. And all through the day, a few spoons here and there, which seems to have done well.
But then, tonight, the belching returned and I wonder at how its possible for a body to do this. Am I decomposing inside or something?! Outgassing like a fucking star going nova? I worry that now there really must be something wrong - something more than what I initially thought. Because food poisoning should have worn off by now...unless my innards are fouled beyond redemption...in which case, the guest room will get a lot more use. Indeed, I used it a few nights as a tender mercy for Trooper.
Things had better start improving and soon. I can't imagine the lovely tests that will otherwise be necessary. Yeah...that's something to look forward to...so lift up a prayer, slaughter a calf, whatever, y'all. But this has to end...