DISCLAIMER: This post has to do with personal illness. I’m going to try and spare you from the worst of the gory details, but sometimes when I start writing, words just come out. Like verbal vomit. But I’m going to be discussing actual vomit at times in this post. So unless you’re a mother who can handle this kind of thing, you might want to check out a more enjoyable post. Like this. If you’ve decided to stay, we can move on.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been legitimately sick. I can’t sit here and tell you that I’ve got an amazing no vomit streak, because I just don’t keep track of that sort of life event. I just know it’s been a long time. I admit, I’ve claimed that sort of stomach-y virus-y illness a time or two in the last few years, but that was mostly because I needed a mental health holiday during the school year. Really, I work for a company that would probably more than understand the need for a mental health break.But I digress. I found myself feeling ill today. And it’s about the most unpleasant thing I’ve felt in recent memory. I woke up in the pre-dawn hours with some pretty serious pain in my gut. Felt like gas or cramps or something. Kept me from getting a full night’s sleep, but I didn’t think much of it. Eventually the sun rose and I got moving around because I thought I had a meeting to attend this morning. That turned out to be a wrong thought, but I was quite productive for those first few hours of the day.
I didn’t feel like eating breakfast, but I didn’t think anything of that because I rarely feel like eating breakfast. The pain continued as I made my way to the mall to visit the local Verizon store. See, I’ve been having problems with my phone not staying charged, so I was hoping I could sweet talk someone into going ahead and letting me upgrade my phone, even though I’m not due for the upgrade for another 3 months. I was unsuccessful, but I did get a new charger. We’ll see if that makes a difference.
My stomach was still hurting as I was leaving the mall and I smelled the delicious smells emanating from the Cinnabon. What can’t Cinnabon fix? I thought, maybe if I ate something, I would feel a little better. It didn’t work. Even as I was eating my amazing cinnamon roll, the pain in my stomach seemed to get worse. It was sharper and came more frequently. But did I finish the Cinnabon? Of course.I know what you’re thinking… It’s his appendix! He’s gonna die! No… It’s not my appendix. I don’t know a whole lot about human anatomy, but I’m pretty sure the pain was coming from an area of my abdomen where my appendix is not found. It’s on the right side, right? I was doubling over from pain that was more centrally located. I was ready to accept that I was in labor and having contractions and would be featured on I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. Then I remembered I’m a dude.
Well, I drove home. And I had all these intentions of continuing to be productive with my day. See, the lease on my current place runs out next Wednesday. So I need to finish packing. And I need to help out with the cleaning of the townhouse. But when I got home, I didn’t feel like anything but lying on my bed and shutting out the world. I felt bad because one of my roommates was making huge strides in cleansing the kitchen. Meanwhile, I’m crawling into my bed wishing that I could just fart so my stomach would stop hurting.
That’s about when the nausea hit. Hard. Just so you know, I may never eat Cinnabon again. It hurts my soul to make that kind of statement. You know how sometimes you feel bad and you know you’ll feel better if you could just puke? Well, I didn’t get that feeling after I threw up. I still felt crappy.
I laid back down for a couple more hours. Then the nausea hit again. Still felt crappy.
It’s been about an hour since that last toilet-hugging session. Still feel crappy.
Not that there’s a good time to get sick, but this just isn’t a good time for me to get sick. On top of needing to pack and clean and move out of my place, there’s other stuff. Next week, my church is having its summer kids’ camp. It’s gonna be awesome and a lot of fun, but I’ve got so much to do this week to prepare for it. Stuff I can’t do if I’m laid up in bed with the need to keep an empty trash can no more than 2 feet away.
I’d love to end this post on an optimistic note, but feeling the way I do now, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be a long night.