Oct 09 2014

Dispatches From Hellpeckersville-Sick

Well, my dear friends, the sewing project with the kid did not happen. Instead, what happened was this: I got sick. And not just any sick, gut-wrenchingly, pain approaching childbirth levels sick. It was not pretty.

First of all, let me tell you that my father has our downstairs bathroom floor ripped up. So when the pain hit as it was sitting at my computer Saturday morning, that would have been my last choice for my eventual collapse, had I felt I had any, but no. Off I raced to what was to become my pit of despair.

Now, I have IBS, so I figured this was just another round, I had no clue how wrong I was. Pain ripped through me like hot knives. I broke out in the coldest sweat of my entire life, and the tunnel vision began. No,no, no, NO!!!! No way in hell I’m passing out on that chewed up floor. I clean myself up decent, but I can’t rise, and another round of cramping starts. I hear Cleetus; I swing the door open and holler out to him to yank me the hell out of there! He drags me to a kitchen chair and asks should he take me to the hospital as I look like hell. I tell him no, I’d like to die right there, thanks. I don’t remember much of the rest of that day.

The next day there was no sewing, but I’ll tell you what there was–steak. Prime NY Strips for everybody but triv. That’s right, I managed to get sick the same weekend the market put steaks on sale so cheap it would be crazy not to buy ’em. When will they be ready, our big guts are eating our little guts. My little guts are made of razor blades, and I am surrounded by steak eating bastards.

Honey, would you like to try some broth?

Fuck you.

I’ve slept most of the beginning of the week away, but by Tuesday I managed some noodles in my broth. Damn good thing, dad just walked through the door with more steaks, and one of those suckers has my name on it.

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