I'm sick. I am SO sick! You will not believe how very ill I am. Okay, I'm not dying, but I'm sick. I have that stomach virus that's going around like a plague, and I'm only writing today so people will leave me alone and let me throw up in peace.
This is how fast people catch this thing-- BAM!BAM!BAM! BAM! Almost like dominoes. And we fall over that quickly, too.
No warning, no "oh, I'm feeling a little funny" beforehand. Nope. Instead, you'll be feeling normal, laughing and talking with your buds, and the next thing you know, you have to race to the nearest bathroom to expel everything you've eaten for the last 24 hours. From BOTH ENDS, folks. I am SO not exaggerating. And it doesn't stop there. Approximately 16 minutes later, you go through the whole thing again.
Then again. Then again. And I'll tell ya, it was during one of those very bleak times, when I was whimpering against the toilet seat (thank You, God, that we don't have the Portapotty anymore! Can you imagine?...), sweating and trying to get my breath back, it was during one of those bouts that I finally understood how Jimi Hendrix died the way he did. Because the upchucking is so virulent that you cannot breathe. Literally. There's no time to come up for air. And it comes out your nose, too. I was expecting it to shoot out of my ears, but it didn't.
I'm pretty sure I caught mine from Daughter #2. She woke up with this thing Wednesday morning. I was leaving for work, and she came slamming out of the bedroom, said, "Move" and pushed past me into the bathroom. Door shut. SPLAAAAAAT! SPLAAAT! SPLATSPLATSPLAT!SPLAAAAAAAAAAAAT!
I'm right outside the door, thinking, "Is she vomiting on the bathroom floor? Right on the floor? Just like that? Right on it?" So I asked, "Honey, are you vomiting on the floor?"
More retching sounds, slight pause, "yes," retching sounds continuing.
Guess who got to clean it up?
So I got it next. But I could have got it from my grandson. Or from one of the 3 people at work who had it, and sit with me.
And check this out. I came down with this Thursday night. So what, you ask? Okay. Here's what: I had to stop by a friend's that night on my way home, to pick up some music for tomorrow's Easter Mass (I'll be playing), and when I got in the car to leave, and turned it on, there was a strange "whoofling" sound that wasn't there 5 minutes before, and it made the car shake. The daughters asked, "What's that noise?" How am I supposed to know what that noise was?
So I said a prayer and drove the couple of miles home. When I was back in my own driveway and idling, there was smoke, a burning rubber smell, and more strange noises. The girls exited the car (rather quickly, I thought-- thanks for the backup, guys) and stood there with their eyes popping out.
I turned the engine off, ran into the house, and proceeded to be sick.
Now I'm sick, with no car. Oh, Joy!
Fortunately, Son #2 is lending me his old car while mine goes in the shop (again). He loves me a lot.
Now I get to wonder how much it will cost to fix whatever is wrong, and will I be able to pay for it? But isn't that always the question?
This is how fast people catch this thing-- BAM!BAM!BAM! BAM! Almost like dominoes. And we fall over that quickly, too.
No warning, no "oh, I'm feeling a little funny" beforehand. Nope. Instead, you'll be feeling normal, laughing and talking with your buds, and the next thing you know, you have to race to the nearest bathroom to expel everything you've eaten for the last 24 hours. From BOTH ENDS, folks. I am SO not exaggerating. And it doesn't stop there. Approximately 16 minutes later, you go through the whole thing again.
Then again. Then again. And I'll tell ya, it was during one of those very bleak times, when I was whimpering against the toilet seat (thank You, God, that we don't have the Portapotty anymore! Can you imagine?...), sweating and trying to get my breath back, it was during one of those bouts that I finally understood how Jimi Hendrix died the way he did. Because the upchucking is so virulent that you cannot breathe. Literally. There's no time to come up for air. And it comes out your nose, too. I was expecting it to shoot out of my ears, but it didn't.
I'm pretty sure I caught mine from Daughter #2. She woke up with this thing Wednesday morning. I was leaving for work, and she came slamming out of the bedroom, said, "Move" and pushed past me into the bathroom. Door shut. SPLAAAAAAT! SPLAAAT! SPLATSPLATSPLAT!SPLAAAAAAAAAAAAT!
I'm right outside the door, thinking, "Is she vomiting on the bathroom floor? Right on the floor? Just like that? Right on it?" So I asked, "Honey, are you vomiting on the floor?"
More retching sounds, slight pause, "yes," retching sounds continuing.
Guess who got to clean it up?
So I got it next. But I could have got it from my grandson. Or from one of the 3 people at work who had it, and sit with me.
And check this out. I came down with this Thursday night. So what, you ask? Okay. Here's what: I had to stop by a friend's that night on my way home, to pick up some music for tomorrow's Easter Mass (I'll be playing), and when I got in the car to leave, and turned it on, there was a strange "whoofling" sound that wasn't there 5 minutes before, and it made the car shake. The daughters asked, "What's that noise?" How am I supposed to know what that noise was?
So I said a prayer and drove the couple of miles home. When I was back in my own driveway and idling, there was smoke, a burning rubber smell, and more strange noises. The girls exited the car (rather quickly, I thought-- thanks for the backup, guys) and stood there with their eyes popping out.
I turned the engine off, ran into the house, and proceeded to be sick.
Now I'm sick, with no car. Oh, Joy!
Fortunately, Son #2 is lending me his old car while mine goes in the shop (again). He loves me a lot.
Now I get to wonder how much it will cost to fix whatever is wrong, and will I be able to pay for it? But isn't that always the question?
Lori finally stopped procrastinating at 4:42 PM
5 Comments:
I haven't gotten sick and I most likely won't. @_@ (Do not delete)
Shit. I messed up on the first one. It's because I'm dyslexic.
Sounds horrible; I hope you're through the worst of it. And please don't spread the virus around at work! I like not being sick.
Here are the artist website I told you about the other day:
http://amyjewelry.com
Keith in Modesto
Poor you. I do hope you are feeling better now. Nothing worse than being ill at both ends! Grin! Like the dyeing especially the circle one.
Remmus-- Ahem. Language, language! If anyone's using the s-word around here, it's me!
Keith-- too late! The virus has already been spread at work! Hahaha! Maybe not touching anything and holding your breath a lot would help, but probably wouldn't be very practical, and possibly injurious to your health. And thanks for that link!
Valeri-- I'm so glad you understand. People are just not feeling sorry enough for me, so I have to do it all by myself! And, I'm already scouting out beads for that dye job you mentioned-- I'll have to make some of them, though, but that'll be fun.
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