This week kind of sucked. On Wednesday I woke up and found that I had eaten something that did not agree with me. At all.
This is a warning. The following story is rather detailed and disturbing (in a medical way).
Now that you have been warned I feel like I can explain exactly how crappy I was feeling. It was like something exploded in my stomach and it was going to find the fastest way out of my body. I woke up with the runs and spent the rest of the day hurling my guts into the toilet.
I hate vomiting. I have two very serious issues with expelling my guts via my mouth. 1. I already ate it, I don't want to have to taste it again. And 2. It goes against the natural rhythm of life. It's supposed to go down. Not come back up.
Plus when you throw up it causes all sorts of nasty side effects. Like shaking and chills and muscle fatigue. Which only makes sense, since your freaking body just made a herculean effort by sending stuff up the track backwards. It's not fun. I hate it.
I ended up puking about five to six times in a six hour hour time frame. Every single time I vomited up more stuff (I am assuming it was food at some point ... but it didn't look like it). Which was better then just stomach bile, but still nasty. I did not think it was possible to have that much food in my stomach and not have it mostly digested.
I crashed Wednesday night woke up feeling better on Thursday, but honestly I am not entirely sure what happened to this week. I am feeling totally fine now, but I lost like half a week between sleeping and puking my guts up.
Happy days ... except not. At all.
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