Tuesday, February 19, 2008

48 hours of the 12 hour flu

I'm gonna try to do 2 posts tonight - I figure if I do one about American Idol, it will force me to post more often. But first, let me tell you about the 6 pounds I lost in 2 days.

After a very awesome 2 days of gifts and parties and quality time spent with loved ones, our plan was to leave Memphis around 8 am on Sunday morning and leave straight from the Branch. This is because for some reason, Carrie had school on Presidents Day while every other school in America was closed. I happened to be off work, but was still looking forward to sitting around and doing nothing. Sunday morning, the alarm went off around 7:00. So, around 7:30, we decide to actually get up and at them. Carrie goes out to hang out with the folks, and I sit up in bed. Immediately, something wasn't right. Now, the night before, I had a little bit of a sore throat, but this wasn't it at all - I had some serious nausea going on. I felt like I might hurl. I went to the bathroom and it didn't happen - I thought maybe a shower would wake me up, and I was just having the early morning weirdness I sometimes get (not a morning person here, folks). In the shower, I had to squat down and steady myself because again, I thought I might vomit. And again, nothing.

I finish and get dressed, but I have to lay down on the bed. Carrie comes in and sees me and knows that I am sick by this point. We go and hang out with the Stanfills, even though I am having a difficult time standing. Jerry is nice enough to give me a pill that he says will help with any potential diarrhea. (OK - everyone, don't be grossed out, but bodily fluids will be a part of this story.) I take the pill, and we get packed up, and are on our way. I decide to drive just to see if I can. We have left some cool pictures at Steph's house that she blew up and had framed for us, so I am thinking maybe that would be an excuse to stop in somewhere for a minute and see if I needed to go potty. However, we (I) decide on Mom because, well, she is Mom and if I am sick, that is really where I need to be. Although, Steph does have those Target bags...

At Mom's, I am still out of it, and we all sit and talk for a minute. I decide to go try to go to the bathroom before we go. This bathroom trip - little did I know that it would be the first of about 30 so visits in the next 24 hours or so. (Yikes - I don't want to be graphic, so let's just imagine pouring canned soup into a bowl. OK - so I did want to be graphic.) After that, I went back downstairs for a couple of minutes, and then said that maybe I should try to go to the bathroom again before we go. This routine repeated another time or two, and Mom finally was just like, why don't you lie down for a minute? I was still hoping to leave at some point, but the diarrhea every 20 minutes was really putting a damper on things.

This continued all morning - I really thought it was going to pass. (Pun intended.) Sometime around noonish I guess (I was really out of it), Mom and Carrie went to the store to get some supplies for me because they are awesome, and I go potty for the umpteenth time, and finally I vomit. See, I really only vomit when I am hungover - I also only have weird bowel movements and bad headaches when I am hungover, so I am thinking of this illness as a hangover - you know, something I will just get over. And that initial second wind I got after the puking, I thought that was it. I called Carrie, saying we could leave soon. When they got back from the store, I was back in bed, wondering what went wrong.

Around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, I just gave up - Carrie had to call in a sub, we weren't leaving. I didn't know when I would be good enough to leave - the headache was constant and pounding, the nausea made vomiting a constant possibility, and the diarrhea had my ass feeling like...a joke I am not about to make, knowing who reads this blog. In and out of sleep, I was able to watch Michigan beat osu in basketball (good) and the Wings lose to the Stars (bad). At 6, "American Gladiators" came on right as Mom's cable went out. Then, at 8, we all watched "Knight Rider, the Debacle". Seriously - I have some thoughts about Ben Silverman that I would like to share.

After Knight Rider, Carrie and I basically passed out - it was around 10, and I had only had 1 or 2 diarrheas in the past few hours, so moral victory. I thought for sure that the next morning would see us leaving at 8, for reals this time. I woke up around 11:15 though, went to the bathroom - the diarrhea was back, and so was the puking. Yay! I had to wake Carrie up to go get me some water. The diarrhea showed up at least once an hour the rest of the night. At one point, I openly wondered where my body was finding the liquid.

Side note - all I had to eat Sunday was half a banana, two small pieces of toast, and 2 mini applesauces. I don't think any of those reached their final destinations. That, and most of the day was alternately spent under the sheet, a blanket, and 2 down comforters, or I was too hot and was above the sheets. I tried to go downstairs once, and it lasted for about 3 minutes - the shakes caused me to go back upstairs.

The next morning, I finally stopped with the pooping around 10, so we left at noon, and I was fine. We did stop at the Hank Williams/Loretta Lynn Rest Stop (I hate TN), and nothing happened. Well, #63 happened - not something you want at a rest stop. But, feeling cocky and hungry, I bought a Twix bar. I even had 2 bites. Half an hour later, the diarrhea had its last stand. Solid food - not a good idea just yet. It had a little bit of a revival in a Starbucks bathroom north of Cincinnati, but that might have just the stench emanating from Columbus.

When we got home, I actually found out that I was unable to get anything out, which belied the stomach cramps I had had for about 5 hours prior. Maybe the Immodium worked too well. Even though, all I had was one Twix bar to eat, all day. The cold air of the north gave me the violent shakes while unloading the car, and the shower I took to warm up made me realize that I had let my feet get too cold in the car. (Seriously - felt like boiling water on my feet. I hope to never actually get frostbite.) So, in case you aren't paying attention, last night my head hurt, my stomach hurt, my ass hurt, my ribs hurt from throwing up (they hurt worst around my old golfing injury - I am so old), my shoulder hurt from sleeping on it funny, my feet hurt from the frostbite, and my thighs hurt because it was another symptom that I had that I forgot to mention earlier - apparently a general feeling of soreness accompanies this sickness.

This morning, I wake up feeling like a million bucks. Well, maybe like 38 cents - but compared to the night before, it was a million bucks. I even managed to go into work, even though I accomplished very little. I weighed myself, and I had lost 6 pounds since I weighed myself last Wednesday. Still, all in all it was a rough day, but I did eat solid foods and keep them in me.

Really, the all-stars here are Mom and Carrie - even at 31, when I am sick to the point that I am almost helpless, nothing is better than having Mom around. This is why I generally avoid getting too sick, although the 3 times I have been sickest in the past 10 years have all involved me being in Memphis, which defies the odds since I have lived here since 99. Also, Carrie was a trooper for missing a day of school and getting me water and help at 2 in the morning when she was utterly exhausted. So to you both, I give my love and my thanks.

Oh, and a big hand to Chloe - had it not been for her Pampers Sensitive Wipes, I don't know if I could have sat for 12 hours yesterday. Those were a lifesaver.

No comments: