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| Our special boy. |
As my few followers know, I've been battling illness(es) since May of 2009, when I got food poisoning at a pizza place during mother's day dinner. Yes, nothing but the best for my mother. Somehow *I* chose the place, and Pizza Hut is apparently all my mom is worth. What a terrible daughter. Moving along....
(Don't worry, they aren't terminal... the illnesses I mean... or I suppose the restaurant, but I will never go back). Immediately after this meal, much gastrointestinal trauma ensued... for... well.... still.
This morning, once the alarm went off, I could just FEEL the awfulness in my body. Waking to extreme nausea is not fun (and it had seemed that the terrible-horrible worst of that had eased up on me in June-ish). And no, I am not pregnant.
For those of you who have never experienced the joy of nausea, imagine your worst hangover and how that made you feel. Now imagine feeling like that most mornings you wake up, coupled with no appetite, and that whole necessity of being able to function as an adult and that attending work thing.
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| Look at how lovingly she stares into that bowl. Perhaps she recently had a bathroom reno as well? |
I am writing this post, trying to move as little as possible, waiting for my (expensive, super-duper strength) nausea medication to kick in.
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| One option. Not the particular medication I took today, though. |
In my "trooper"-i-ness, I showered (managed to bang my head hard off of the new, very hard, ceramic tile in the shower), forced myself to have rice protein powder (then discovered the nearly straight, 10" trail of it down my once-clean white shirt), then decided an orange would help me absorb the iron I am so depleted of (and it ended up being all hard/crunchy and dried out on the inside.... please tell me I am not the only person this happens to).
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| Yellow airbrush is approximation of inedible, dry, gross part of orange. Remainder was barely edible. |
Days like this make me fear more for my sanity. (I mean, c'mon, we all know it's teetering regularly).
Days like this make me fear for my job security. There are only so many emails and phone calls in to work that essentially say "Hi, yes, yes it is me again. I am feeling like that World Cup Goalie from England after missing that save, whilst being mocked by the world while feeling like I am going to barf up RICE PROTEIN POWDER while still recovering from the hurtful, fart-filled subliminal messages from my dog, while I take my medications and hope for the best. Flawed? Why, yes, I am thank you. Hope not to be too late. Will be there soon."
Some days I wish I could be like Paul Coffey in the Green Mile and just touch someone's hand so that they can feel what I feel and think what I think. Obviously only for a few seconds, wouldn't want to permanently eff them up or anything, but just to give them some understanding (and perhaps some credibility for myself).
Let's hope the day gets better from here. I am going to work now. I hope the nausea goes away. :-( Pin It Now!