Saturday, June 4, 2011
Fire, Brimstone & Cheesecake
I am exhausted. And you are probably fighting hard to suppress your self-righteous judgment and not say the following: "Posting at 5:00am? Hey, MMM, get a life!"
But you would be wrong. I do, indeed have a life. A very nice one, thank you very much. That is why I am sitting on the floor of a hotel bathroom typing this post.
36 Hours Ago (I HATE it when TV and movie writers employ this technique - to me it just shows they don't trust their ability to tell their story n a linear fashion, and they have to tease with an interesting snippet to get people invested.)
I surprised my lovely EC with a weekend get away sans kids, just because I am wonderful like that. We drove for a few hours, and talked the whole time. Important things, unimportant things, etc. We arrived at our destination, enjoyed our first night and all the next day.
8 Hours Ago (9pm)
We ended up having a late dinner. Decided on a Margherita pizza - light, but yummy. Finished it off with a slice of decadent chocolate cheesecake. I ate 85% of it. Eventually went to bed, fat and happy.
2 Hours Ago (3am)
Woke up to Chernobyl in my belly. Almost threw up in my mouth. Made it to the bathroom. The acid was incredible. Ah, but I had packed too quickly - no Tums, no Zantac, no Maalox. But what the reflux did not know, is that I hate to throw up. I refuse. I hate it worse than Lady Gaga. Or Bill Maher. Or the offspring of an unholy Lady Gaga & Bill Maher union.
I walked around, sipped water, propped myself up with extra pillows, etc. I used all the tricks a man learns while watching his wife puke her way through 5 pregnancies. All through this, I managed to keep from waking her up. She will not be happy about this.
It was the cheesecake. Had to be. Either it was just too much rich, chocolaty goodness, or it had gone bad. Yep, I remain convinced it was the cheesecake.
But I would still not vomit. I can will myself to avoid vomiting for hours on end.
30 Minutes Ago
Tonight, hours on end meant two.
Searing, white hot acid pain flows through my throat and out my mouth, eyes and nose. (When I puke, I do it up right) I have never been able to puke "daintily", as my beloved EC has learned to do through much practice.
As with everything we experience, good and bad, there is something to be learned:
1) My wife can sleep through a 7.0 earthquake. The first thing she will say when she learns of my ordeal is "Why didn't you wake me up?" - But at least one of us should sleep, and it's not like she can hold my hair. (Best husband ever!)
2) I love just throwing hotel washcloths and towels in the corner for someone else to deal with.
3) Basil does not digest quickly. And it floats.
4) I continue to have the utmost respect for women who volunteer for this in order to bring children into this life.
5) People who drink until they puke are idiots of the highest order.
Well, since I started writing this, my sinuses have drained to the point where I think I might be able to sleep, just as the sun starts pushing its way into our room. Maybe I can get a couple hours in. When my EC wakes me up, I'll just put the pillow over my head and say "Read my blog."