This will be a short post, as I don’t have the strength to write much, even today.
Yesterday (Saturday) morning, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. Nothing unusual about that; I generally wake up at about that time every day. Don’t know why, just do. Most of the time I roll over and go back to sleep. Other times, I toss and turn until about a half-hour before my alarm goes off, then go back to sleep.
When I woke up yesterday morning, though, something was different. I felt uncomfortable, bloated. I’d had (too many) pork chops for dinner the night before, washed down by (only two) red beers, so I figured I had a slight case of overeatitis. I chewed a Pepcid from the bottle I keep on my bedstand (acid reflux, you see). And rolled over. And didn’t go back to sleep.
Instead, I fell into one of those half-sleeps, the feverish/delirious kind, where your dreams seem more real than reality, except my friend from high school had a head shaped like Gumby, and I was at a formal party wearing flowered shoes.
Things went on like this for literally a couple of hours. At 7:45 a.m., I sat straight up in bed, wide-awake, and bolted for my bathroom.
I didn’t make it all the way to the toilet for my first outpouring, only as far as the sink. Of course. For the past few days I’ve had issues with it backing up, but procrastinated fixing it; this will teach me to put off mundane household chores.
I made it to the American Standard for the next couple of rounds. After I felt sure that there was nothing more to eject, I washed my hands and rinsed my mouth out (in the kitchen, the bathroom sink being backed up with two inches of liquefied pork chops) and crawled, exhausted, back into bed.
I don’t know how long it was before the next wave hit – I’d long lost interest in clock-watching – but it seemed to be more violent than earlier. By the time it was over, sweat was pouring off of me like Gatorade off of the winning coach.
By this time, I was fully blaming the chops, tasty as they may have been. I opened up the browser on my iPhone and Googled “food poisoning”. The research I did suggested I may instead be afflicted with viral gastroenteritis. Before I could get too far into my research, another symptom appeared: the dreaded diarrhea. Thank God I didn’t have to make do with the sink this time (har!). I had two bouts which left me feeling quite drained. Literally.
The rest of the day I spent listlessly walking around the house or napping. By the time I turned in for the night, after keeping down a Cup O’ Noodles, my symptoms were reduced to a nagging headache and occasional abdominal cramps.
Today I’ve felt tapped out, with the odd visit from Mr. Nausea. The weirdest thing is that every time I hiccup or sneeze or cough, it feels like I have broken ribs. Can that happen with vomiting?
I had a bowl of Campbell’s Chunky Beef Soup for lunch, which sat well. But I made a nice ribeye for dinner and only got down three forkfuls before wrapping and storing it for another day.
The upside? According to my bathroom scale, I lost 10 pounds yesterday.
But I wouldn’t recommend anyone try my particular weight-loss plan!