For the last two days, I have been held hostage by the wretched stomach flu. It grabbed me suddenly and before I knew it, I was a prisoner to my porcelain throne. The last time I was ill, truly ill, where I was secured in my bed, was two years ago. Two years of not being branded by some evil germ. But, on Wednesday, that streak was broken.
Yes, there was a point where death look appealing. My family is not used to me being “under the weather” (by the way, that is a ridiculous saying). If we are being literal, I am under the weather most days….under the rain, under the sun, etc. Anyway, I digress. The illness has made me a touch cranky. I woke up this morning with no stomach issues, but I do have a raging headache and my body feels like it has been in a cage match. I know, you are thinking I wish she would share her cage match experience, but I have none. I imagine that one’s body would hurt after participating in one.
Being ill with this stomach crud reminded me of being pregnant. I had the worst morning sickness. It made that chick from The Exorcist look tame. Probably one of the reasons for my displeasure of pregnancy. Nine months is a long time to be an incubator to a human life when you are constantly losing your lunch or all three meals, in my case. I was that lady who would open her door at a stop light to empty my stomach. There was no pregnancy glow and I certainly wasn’t one of those mothers who was sad when the hostage situation was over. Ideal pregnancy length, for me, would be twenty-four hours.
I think I am at the end of this particular germ fest. There has been Lysol sprayed all over the house and I waiting for the next shoe to drop, or in this case, the next person to claim the porcelain throne. Maybe they will escape or maybe they won’t. All I know is that I am thrilled to be on the end of this particular strand and back among the living. The bonus is that I lost four pounds and I have a new lease on life due to the fact that I am no longer spending endless hours in my bathroom.