Isn't just amazing how one moment you're going about your day and evening enjoying the company of friends over food and spirits when suddenly you find yourself begging God for mercy as your body convulses forward and everything you thought you had enjoyed is now back with a vengeance?
I rarely get sick, I'd say every couple of years, like 5-10 or so. And I guess like child birth, until you're in the thick of vomiting everything up from your toes, you don't really remember how horrible it is.
I've been participating in this Weight Watchers weight loss program with my sister-in-law. We are a month in and things are going fairly well. We've managed to stick to our points and even earn a few extras with yard work and the occasional trip to the gym.
Last Friday evening my coworker asked if I wanted to have a girls evening, and visit a newly opened Cantina for a few drinks and appetizers. I thought I'd earned myself a cheat meal and cheat drink so I opted in. It was great!
Saturday evening rolled around and my husband received a message from another couple asking if we'd like to have dinner and some drinks. Soooo we opted in that evening as well and had a great time.
Around 1:30am Sunday morning I sat up in the bed extremely nauseated. I journeyed to the kitchen for a bottle of water, and it hit me!
I ran for the bathroom! I waited in nauseating agony but nothing happened. I grabbed the small trash can from the corner and took it back to the living room with me. I sat impatiently waiting for the dreaded desire to vomit to return. And it did.
I heaved into the trash can for a while before being able to catch my breath. My teenage son who happened to still be awake in his room peeked his head through his bedroom door and asked if I was ok? All I could do was shake my head.
For the next several hours I would camp out in the guest bathroom, sometimes sitting on the toilet sometimes kneeling in front of it, and even sometimes not knowing if I should kneel or sit because both were about to happen.
Around 7:45am I found myself at rest. Neither the need to sit nor kneel were troubling me any longer. However, in their place I found my body aching with a fierceness; muscles cramping and spasming leaving me with no comfortable position in which to lay.
That's when I called in reinforcements. My mom.
I'm 41 and pride myself on not needing my parents for more than suggested advice or fun company. But this was one of those times I needed my mom.
She loaded me up and took me to the nearby urgent care clinic where I was diagnosed with an intestinal virus. An injection to calm the nausea and three other prescriptions were provided and off I went, home to recover.
I slept most of the rest of the day and night. Admittedly, it was some of the best sleep I've had in a long time. I give no credit to the virus wreaking havoc on my body, only to the meds administered to provide my war torn existence with relief.
The next day I saw a post on social media site that said the place I'd visited with my coworker had been accused of causing a food poisoning outbreak. 37 people reported having eaten at the restaurant and then becoming ill, violently vomiting, etc.
Supposedly, food poisoning happens quite quickly, so I'm not sure if I had food poisoning or if I had a virus. What I do know is I never want to feel like that again.
I'm two days out from that horrific 5 hours of torture so it's back to point counting and healthy living!
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