Or, as I have decided to call it, rapid detox.
I had a very rare burger on Saturday. I have always eaten my red meat that way, and have never had a problem. I also met some friends out for some cocktails that night. So, when I woke up Sunday morning feeling ‘not quite right’, I figured it probably had something to do with the cocktails.
I had to run an errand about an hour away, and my stomach was really feeling very unsettled on the way out. Usually, when that happens I will drink a small amount of milk, which usually seems to take care of the problem. So, I trieds that, and it seemed to work. Until the return trip.
I was about a quarter of the way into my return trip when the nausea hit me like a cold wave on a hot day. Unfortunately, I had no time to either pull over, or find a receptacle. So I vomited all over myself. Not my proudest moment. All I could think was that I still had about an hour until I got home. Covered in vomit.
Then the lower intestine discomfort started. All I could think was ‘I can’t even stop anywhere, because I am covered in throw up’. All I wanted to do was get home as fast as possible. Which I was nearly able to do… Until I ran into a parade… And a road block. And a cop.
The cop was stopping traffic, directing everyone to the ‘alternate route’. The cop was going really slow. The cop should have listened when I told him how sick I was. He should have taken note when I pointed out the vomit coating the front of my t-shirt. The cop should have backed up more when I flung open my drivers’ side door. Yup, I threw up all over the cops’ feet. Not once, but twice. And when I finally attempted to navigate the ‘alternate route’… I wound up going in one big circle. Not cool, when one is covered in ones’ own sick.
I finally got home. The first thing I did was race upstairs and fling my filthy clothing in the washer. The second was to allow my bowels to finally explode. The third was a shower. A blessedly warm, cleansing shower. I finally wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel and collapsed on the couch.
I woke up a little later, dying of thirst I drank a bottle of water and some Diet Coke. Then I had more diarrhea. Then, I felt all those delicious liquids surging back up my esophagus. I grabbed the trash can and emptied the meager contents of my stomach into it. And then dragged it back to the couch.
I spent Sunday afternoon sleeping off and on. Finally, about 8pm, I roused myslef long enough to go to the store and get some stomach-bug necessities. I.e., Saltines, Chicken Soup and Pedialyte. It’s pretty sad when Pedialyte actually tastes good.
Sunday night was pretty much a repeat of Sunday afternoon… Sleep off and on. Then Monday morning came… Boy, did I feel drained. I called in sick at work, just to give myself time to rest, plaus my stomach was really hurting me. Monday was a repeat of Sunday… Sleep off and on all day, eat a little something… Sleep off and on throughout the night.
I feel much better today. Still a little ‘off’, in te sense that my stomach still feels a little queasy, and my appetite is pretty poor.
But the upside: I haven’t had any alcohol in 48 hours. And I don’t even want any.