Squirm if you need to, it happened. Waking up with a brain shattering fever brought new meaning to the witches hour today. I found myself delusional and curled up in a foetal position at 3 AM with a bizarre fiesta in my stomach.
With temperatures exceeding human capacity, my mind began to play tricks on me. I started reenacting my dreams, bordering between sleep and insanity. One peculiar hallucination involved me desperately trying to send emails whilst pulling my pants down…now I knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. I stumbled back and forth from my bed to the bathroom enough to know I needed some help. And so I pushed through the rest of the morning, tossing and turning, deliriously awake but not, waiting for the world to wake up.
I managed to make it to daylight and get to a doctor who prescribed antibiotics, probiotics, nausea medication, cramp medication, and blissfully powerful pain killers. Needless to say, the combination of drugs put me on a high that Charlie Sheen would be proud of. For the rest of the day I slipped in and out of some kind of sleep, floating around in a haze of reality. Until now I have ingested about a liter of Vitamin Water, 2 cream crackers, a host of pills, and 5 spoons of chicken soup, it has all stayed down.
Quite recently, similar conditions put me in hospital and since then, I’ve learned that my bowls enjoy rejecting my body. Because of my experiences with gastric flu, I know it helps to be optimistic about the situation. So here I am, stuck with the worlds best weight loss remedy, spreading (if you’ll excuse the pun) love and hugging my toilet.