By now, it is clear, even to my befuddled mind that I do NOT have food poisoning. I have a bug. This is no ordinary bug (see photo above), but a vicious, cunning, ravening beast.
Things that I've learned about the enemy: It laughs in the face of Imodium. Laughs. It does the happy dance when you feed it crackers and cheerios. It jeers at the usual sick fare of tea and flat soda.
But I am not easily defeated! No, I persevere in the face of the enemy. There are old secret weapons available--weapons almost forgotten by man and woman.
Pepto-Bismol. Say it with me. Pepto-Bismol. The pink liquid that coats and soothes the troubled belly.
Sleep. Real honest to God, sawing logs sleep. Hours of sleep snuggled in the warm covers on dismal gray rainy, snowy days. Sleep until you can sleep no more. Guilt-free sleep.
Herbal tea. Choose your own. My belly prefers Sleepy-Time, a chamomile based tea with honey. Pair it up with toasted English muffins with just a tad of honey. That has possibilities.
Things that I've learned from being sick:
My bathroom needs to be redecorated. It's no place to spend hours on end when you're sick. Oh, I gradually added a few things to make it my homier-away-from-home refuge, but ech... it needs a painting or two and some flowers. I took care of the other things by now. You know--the pile of books, the reading glasses, the butt wipes, the antiseptic wipes, and the six extra rolls of toilet paper.
And I tossed in the sweater (because it's cold in the middle of the night) and the spare pair of socks (in case I inadvertently end up in there barefoot--remember it's cold.) I considered adding a small boom box so that I could enjoy Christmas music while occupied, but decided against it because my head hurts most of the time.
Some day in the distant future, I will no doubt feel better. My gut will quit roiling and my dinner will stay where it's supposed to. I'll regain the fifteen pounds I've lost as soon as liquids start to recirculate in my body.
Some day, this will be a dim memory that I'll talk about with my friend, Jane, endlessly repeating, "Do you remember...?"