Stomach flu, flown.
The dreaded stomach flu laid me out this week, taking me out of commission from Wednesday through Friday.
There are viruses and illnesses far more dangerous and debilitating than the stomach flu. When the stomach flu hits though, it’s so relentlessly awful that you can’t imagine anything worse…at least I can’t. When your body gets on its internal loudspeaker and announces that a “red alert” evacuation from all entry points is underway, the sweet release of death seems like a more pleasant and altogether desirable experience.
When I first felt the signs of stomach flu, I raced to the bathroom. The full effects didn’t immediately show themselves, so I camped out on the cold, hard floor and waited. With a bath towel shoved between my head and the wall, clad in my cunning Hulk T-shirt/Guitar-Hero-flannel-pajama-pant ensemble, I felt the telltale rush of saliva in the back of my throat as the cold sweats dampened my skull. With only my cell phone to keep me company while on the floor, I emailed the office to say (paraphrasing) “Won’t be in tomorrow, got the stomach flu. Ugh.”
The most sick I felt was Thursday morning. I woke up on the couch around 5 a.m. and decided to stagger to the bathroom. As I started to walk, everything felt…really…strange. I heard a low buzz in my ears. I felt like I had the bedspins as I was walking. Everything went black and white. I was convinced I was going to pass out. I’d never passed out before, so the idea of it scared the bejesus out of me. I quickly assumed my spot on the bathroom floor and waited it out for a worrisome and fidgety half hour. Once the feeling (thankfully) passed, I climbed back into bed. I woke up four hours later, feeling much better, if not better-better.
I knew I was heading towards the end when I was able to put the stomach flu in perspective. “There’s a good chance I’ll lose some weight because of this,” I thought in one of yesterday’s more lucid moments.
Today’s status: Down two pounds. Thanks, stomach flu. I take back everything I said.