SICK DAYS

I'm sick. Sheesh. I hate being sick. It's so depressing. It's even worse when you realize it could have been avoided. It began yesterday morning. I woke up feeling lousy. My personal plumbing had been working overtime all night. The only good thing about it all is that the swollen ankles and feet I had during the trip to Chicago last week are gone. Kind of a shame in a weird way. The swelling actually made my legs look bigger. Now I need to rehydrate. My skin looks like the Sahara. Skin isn't supposed to have a sound- definitely not the sound of rustling, dried leaves.
"No sugary drinks", I read. I guess that means I can't have a lemon Italian Ice. Sigh.
The crackers and ginger ale that's supposed to work, went the way of everything else I tried to ingest, so I gave up. Vomiting is an awful, violent thing, especially when you know your stomach is practically empty. It was like my body was trying to expel my entire large intestine. I actually heard moaning, realized it was me, and felt sorry for myself. I'm so glad I finally managed to fall asleep last night. All that moaning could really keep a body awake.

Today, it seems as if there's one less elephant stomping on my stomach, but I'm awfully tired. I've managed to keep down the ginger ale and crackers. I'm either turning into a polar bear or I have a fever. The air conditioning has been on full blast all night and day, and although I'm not freezing, the water I ran in the tub, IS. I've made several attempts to get up and stay up. None have been successful.

I thought over what I'd eaten in the last few days, AND whether I'd had any anxiety. Did I make myself sick? I want to blame the shrimp, but just can't bring myself to accuse a dish I love so much. I bought it on Sunday, didn't eat it all, and refrigerated it. When I got home from my trip, I was rummaging through the refrigerator and found it. I was so happy to see it. Instead of eating it cocktail style, I put a little water in a small pot and re-steamed it. Perhaps that wasn't a good idea. Based on my symptoms, according to the mighty internet, I either have gastroenteritis, or something is wrong with my prostate. I know. One must be really, really careful with internet diagnoses.

I'm missing a concert tonight. I thought I could drag myself up and go, but considering how difficult it has been to drag myself to the bathroom, dragging myself to Alexandria was out of the question. Maybe I'm just supposed to be still. Maybe I need to make some changes. There are times when you realize you're not 20 any more.
I had some soup. It is coursing it's way through my digestive system as I type. Why is soup reserved for sick days? It was actually very good. Thank you, Progresso. Your chicken noodle is the closest thing to J. Alexander's.
I'm going to try to get up again. No sense adding atrophy and BO to my symptoms.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow", especially if you bring wellness.