The Lost Week.
Last weekend was beautiful, my sister Joan was in town, Greg and his kids were in town, the sun was out, the weather was warm… it was bliss. Joan and I hung out together doing sporty things like running and roller blading, we had a family dinner out at mom and dads, we visited a miniature horse farm and shopped till we dropped at the mall; And on Sunday afternoon my sister Pauline threw me a terrific bridal shower luncheon. By the time I went to bed Sunday night I was content, worn out and on the brink of excitement that we had turned the last corner before the wedding.
Monday morning I awoke at 5am and by 5:02am I had completely emptied the contents of my stomach and lay on my bathroom floor feeling dazed and confused. What the heck was this? I crawled back to bed and by 7am I was calling the office to say I was going to be late. I got up around 10am and after calling the office to check on things I ate an apple, drank some water and before I could so much as step in the shower I was once again throwing up. I thought I could sleep it off but my body had other ideas. 5lbs and 3.5 days later I was driving myself to the hospital at 4am wondering if I’d make it there before being sick again and feeling thirstier than I’d ever been in my life. When I got to the hospital I found out I wasnt the only one – I joined others in the waiting room holding bedpans to their chins trying to keep it together. After an hour of sitting in the waiting room with no sign of a doctor ever looking at anyone I left and went back home… better to be sick in privacy I supposed, and I knew the walk-in clinic would be open in a mere 3 hours.
Greg arrived at 5:30am and after quickly assessing the situation (half dead girlfriend laying in a mess of blankets beside a well used garbage pail) he gathered me up and forced me to go to sleep. Maybe it was just having someone else there, but as soon as I knew he was there I closed my eyes and gave in to sleep. He woke me up around 9am and took me to the clinic where the doctor poked and prodded my tummy and asked me a hundred questions about where I live, work and what I ate before Monday. The prognosis was that I had a really nasty flu virus that could only be cured with strict bed rest, dry toast and lots of clear fluids. He wrote a note for my work telling them I wouldnt be back until the 12th and sent me on my way.
Greg couldnt stay past the late afternoon but before he left he stocked my kitchen with juice, gingerale and crackers and washed most of laundry. I was asleep when he left but that evening my friend Natasha came by with chicken soup and stayed with me while I got down half a cup of broth and a gravol. I was asleep by the time she left as well. In fact, I didnt really get out of bed again until Friday night at 11pm when Greg came back. My first request was for him to take me for a drive and get a McDonalds cheeseburger happy meal with extra pickles 🙂 Oh no – I didnt eat it! I made him eat it, and describe every bite to me. Feeling happy and satisfied I then asked him to drive me home 🙂
So from there its been a slow recovery but its steady. I’m still thirsty all the time, but a lot more hydrated – and I havent thrown up in almost 4 days. I still get nauseated – but the food is staying where it should, and even though I’m still really tired I think a week of going to bed early will go a long way.