Of course, once I told Blue Shield where to shove it, I got sick. You know how it goes.
I’ve had food poisoning before, from the one time I broke the no-beef-from-fast-food-restaurants rule I’ve been following since childhood. Yes, that week I spent in the bathroom brings back memories. Who needs ‘shrooms when you can get equally trippy hallucinations from severe dehydration?
So, I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ve got going on now – the nausea, the stomach cramps, the inability to swallow even water without retching, the wishing my plumber husband had installed side-by-side toilets. Because, let’s face it, there are times when both your ends need a toilet at the same exact moment.
But then I was lying in bed last night, feeling grateful for the tiny bit of applesauce I was able to keep down yesterday, and it occurred to me: maybe it isn’t food poisoning.
Maybe I caught something when we went to look at those nasty foreclosed homes we’re thinking of buying. I did have an open wound that could have let bacteria right in. A huge, throbbing zit is considered an open wound, right? I thought so.
Anyway, I made an appointment with Dr. Google today while I enjoyed a reprieve from the toilet, just to make sure I couldn’t have caught something gross from being in a disgusting, ceiling-caved-in, mildewy smelling house.
Guess what I found, invisible friends? The plague, that’s what. Fortunately, I don’t have any symptoms of the bubonic plague, just the septicemic plague. Although, since my symptoms seem to be getting better rather than progressing to bleeding from my rectum or gangrene in my extremities, I think I probably just have food poisoning.
You didn’t think I could find a way to make food poisoning look appealing, did you? Oh, ye of little faith.
