On Vomit

I think I figured out why I was feeling so poorly last night. More to the point, there are few things in life that make you feel better afterwards than a nice, cathartic barfing session at 3 in the morning.

It started as I tossed and turned in bed, never finding a way to truly get comfortable. Then, like a light switching on, the immortal words of Stinkoman echoed in my head: "My stummy hurts." It felt just like a dull ache, but it incessantly kept me moving and shifting around, hopelessly uncomfortable. At 1:14 AM, I decided to follow a piece of advice that in my head sounds like it had come directly from my mother, save for the fact that I would probably remember my mom ever telling me "if you throw up, you'll feel better".

Who knows? Mom's got lots of weird wisdom like that. She once told me while zipping around the bends and curves of a treacherous hillside road that "God meant for sex to feel good". I think I was thirteen at the time. But I digress.

So my first dry heave/dry run was at 1:14 AM and gave me no relief. I felt feverishly helpless to do anything to solve my situation, so I stumbled downstairs and downed a small handful of Tums thinking it might be indigestion, heartburn, or a formative ulcer.

At 2:15 AM, dry heave/dry run two commenced. Still no Kate Mossing. I opted for a different kind of digestive/intestinal relief. I felt better. I did some more horizontal St. Vitus-ing for another 45 minutes, making sure I had an empty garbage can near me at all times. Finally, finally! I got that sour spit-inducing sensation that tells me I need to find a toilet, a garbage can, or the backseat of Justin's car immediately.

3 AM: Sweet, sweet relief. Actually, there was nothing sweet about retching my full stomach contents into a porcelain bathroom fixture. Hardly a dignified way to get to bed, but man alive I felt so great afterwards. "Afterwards" being the key part of that sentence. There's just something about the act of puking your guts out that makes you feel as though you've done something very, very wrong to piss off God and He's killing you from the inside out as punishment for your hubris. After about ten minutes, my stomach, now voided in both directions, finally let me fall asleep.

Oh, that reminds me. I need to buy another new toothbrush and refill my Listerine. I can't sleep when I've got puke breath.

What caused it? Dunno. I still don't feel a hundred percent again. Nothing dehydrates you faster than having soft solids coming out of you at both ends, so I'm terribly thirsty all the time, even though I have this intermittent stinging sensation in my bladder like I held it in for too long.

Who knows? I'm probably dying.