On Being Sick In England

Remember how yesterday I was talking about fighting back waves of nausea? Turns out it wasn't just a passing matter. Apparently my entire body decided to riot against me. As time wore on, I started to feel more and more ill. I went into Rachel's room around 5:15, and told her that I felt ill and was wondering if she was ready to go. She said she had to finish off a few things, and would be ready to leave in about 5 minutes. I smiled weakly at her, and informed her that I would be waiting in the loo.

I headed down, and dry heaved over the toilet for a few minutes, before deciding to suck it up and tough it out. When I emerged from the toilet, Rachel was walking down the stairs, ready to go. The ride home itself was horrendous. English roads are not the best to drive down when you're feeling ill; they have a number of large speed bumps to try to deter people from driving like manics (though they fail horribly). Every time we went over a bump my stomach lurched awkwardly. There were a few moments when I burped, and nearly thought I was going to lose everything all over Rachel's interior. I doubt she would have appreciated that.

When we finally made it to my house, I sped out of the car, hastily thanking her, and letting her know I'd be in touch about my status in the morning. I scrambled to unlock the door, flung my bags in the living room, and made a mad dash up the stairs to the bathroom. I was nearly puking on the last step, but managed to hold it until I lifted the lid to the toilet.

Out it all came, in a glorious heap of putrid wonder. Unfortunately, that was only the beginning. Over the next few hours, I was constantly on the run to the bathroom. Not only was I throwing up, but I was blessed with the added burden of becoming 'bungled up' downstairs, if you know what I mean. And it wasn't your average shit show either; it was no holds barred flood releasing. It was nasty. At one point it got so bad that I was sitting on the toilet draining one end, while throwing up into a plastic bag at the other. I've never in my life been so sick. My body was expelling everything, and it was trying to do so in a damn hurry.

This all lead me to believe that something I ate was to blame. My thoughts drifted back to a rather questionable shrimp sandwich I'd eaten that day at lunch. I still am inclined to blame that sandwich...my bodies reaction was unholy. I tried to take a gravol, hoping it would knock me out, only to throw that up within 15 minutes. My room mate tried to give me some bizarre herbal pills (that she told me would cause me to shit black), which I also threw up within half an hour. Seeing black vomit come out of you is a very bizarre experience, let me tell you. Even weirder was sitting on the can at school today, and noticing that that too was black....

It got to the point where I was so thirsty, I would drink a huge glass of water just for the temporary relief, only to know that I was going to bring it all up within a few moments time. I kept doing it though, because my throat was so dry it was killing me.

Eventually, I said 'enough is enough'. It was about 12 midnight, and I was dead tired of struggling with my body. I gulped down another glass of water, and dared my body to throw it up. When I felt the waves of nausea coming, I drank more water, and they died down. This happened a few times; the water would settle, and then I'd have the urge to bring it up, but I'd wash it down with more water. Eventually I managed to fall asleep.

In the morning I was delighted to have not thrown up for at least 5 hours. I felt this was a good sign. I also didn't feel nauseous anymore, though I was ridiculously tired. I stood in the shower, rubbing my sore tummy the entire time. The puking was gone, but the gut rot was not.

I decided I was well enough to go to work. It turned out to be fairly decent; I think I pooped myself out around 10am, so that was a plus. However, working on no food isn't something I would suggest, especially when you're dealing with hyper teenagers. That said, the day went fairly well, all things considered.

I also went to the grocery store tonight, the first time since my return, and picked up a bunch of yummy items. One of these included some chicken soup (though I was sad to see they didn't' carry Campbells Chicken Noodle...or Chicken Noodle of ANY variety for that matter), which I am happy to say I ate. I don't feel nauseous anymore, which is fabulous news. Clearly I flushed whatever it was out in the events of last night.

At least I hope so. I couldn't bare a repeat of that.

Well, that's all for now.

Cheers.