babble, me and my medications, story of my life

In Which Fatso Gets Gastric Flu

My Mum was very, very unwell last Friday night. Like, passing out at the top of the stairs and vomiting in her own armpit and onto the carpet kind of very, very unwell.

My big sister also got a really bad migraine on the same day. We thought maybe it was something to do with the birthday party, but Dad, Greg and I were fine.

I always go visit my parents’ place on Sunday, after Spinning (unless they’re otherwise unable to come pick me up, or doing something else). I left their house feeling fine, but yesterday?

Yesterday, I had my Spanish Speaking reassessment (I get the feeling it went pretty well) and I spent the rest of the night doing my Spanish reading/writing reassessment. When I went to bed last night, it felt like everything that I’d eaten hadn’t digested, like it was still sitting in my stomach. I went to my bed at about 1am… ish.

At 3am, I was lying on the wrong side, facing my window, when I felt a sudden need to…

Well.

Vomit.

I made it to the bathroom just in time. If by just in time you mean projectile vomiting all over the back of my toilet and over the side of my bathtub, onto the floor. Luckily, I have no actual flooring down in my bathroom; it’s just that scratchy Council-standard non-slip flooring.

It took me as long to vomit as it did to clean up. I think I turned inside-out at one point.

And then I went into my kitchen, and I did something I haven’t done since I was a kid: I took a bucket into my bedroom with me. Thank GOD, because the next time I puked, I didn’t even have time to make it to the bathroom. I puked in the bucket.

And then?

Pardon the TMI, but: diarrhea. Lots and lots of it. I got about three hours sleep the whole night, because every time I lay down to sleep, I either needed to puke, or poop.

I got out of bed at about noon, watched 40 minutes of an episode of Buffy, and went into my cupboard to find my summer duvet, tossed off my winter one and curled up under my summer one.

Shivering, shaking, running to the bathroom every fifteen minutes or more. I took my usual morning pills, and I was excited when I kept them down. I didn’t vomit, but every time I drank, it shot out the other end, either in pee or poop form.

I don’t know what the Council were doing, but it sounded like they were refitting a door or something downstairs. It was noisy.

But I managed to fall back asleep about 1pm, and slept until after 4pm – the most restful hours of the day so far.

When I got up again, I got dressed, and headed across the road to The Co-Operative, and picked up a few bottles of full-sugar soda. My Mum used to do this thing for us when we were younger: she’d buy us full-sugar Irn Bru, and she’d shake the fizz out of it, give it to us. No fizz to upset our stomachs, but we’d get sugar to give us energy. I looked up Oral Rehydration therapy, and I should add a little salt to it, too. Between vomiting, diarrhea, and not being able to eat anything all day, I really need something.

Funny side-story? I’m not even hungry.

SAD side-story? I had to cancel my Aquafit and my Spinfit for tomorrow, and, come tomorrow, I may have to cancel Thursday’s Zumba. I haven’t had to cancel classes in forever.

But I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before: unless I’m really, really unwell, I don’t care about it. But I couldn’t do classes like this.

Plus, as I said to my mother, I’d be terrified that I’d poop in the pool.

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