Struck Down

I have contracted an unpleasant stomach-bug that has necessitated many violent trips to the bathroom.  On some occasions I made it successfully, some not.  The highlight of today was desperate puking into a sink full of dishes.

The suspected source of the infection is a barbecue I attended on Saturday, where the host’s first statement upon seeing us was ‘Don’t get too close!  I’ve got a dreadful stomach upset.‘  I am trying very hard not to be irate that the host didn’t cancel the engagement, let alone recuse himself from food preparation.

Lo, on Monday morning at about 2am, I experienced extreme nausea and cold sweats followed by unmentionable bathroom visitations.  Suffice to say that at 6am on Monday morning I had consigned one pair of pyjamas to the laundry and was attempting through a sheen of dribble to cleanse the bathroom without waking K-man.

There has been some improvement in one sense: yesterday I was physically unable to get out of bed until midday, and made it only as far as the sofa before collapsing in front of a marathon of Judge Judy.  You know you’ve seen too many episodes of Judge Judy when you question her respect for her own precedents.  Today I have been up and about, done some editing work, and was able to keep pure water down.  No solid food will digest at all.

I don’t believe in using medication to cover up the symptoms: I want to know if my body is in trouble so I can treat it effectively with rest and relaxation rather than chowing down on a pepperoni pizza and attempting a gruelling hour-long commute.  However, this makes for uncomfortable research into healing involving consumption of dry crackers and peppermint tea.  So far, it’s not going well.

Most galling is that today I was scheduled to attend a court hearing (public gallery) where the sociopath (and I mean that literally) who has made my family’s life miserable for over a year will hopefully finally be exposed as the no-good lying embezzling bastard that he is.  I was really looking forward to seeing him squirm, but apparently my mother views my stomach upset as godly intervention.  She has been quietly terrified all along that I would go, and he would figure out who I am (we’ve never met) and make my life hell for ever more.  That’s not to say that she doesn’t sympathise with my pain, but that she’s thinking long-term.  These people are dangerous and you should stay the hell away from them, she said.

She has a point. Next time I’m invited to a barbecue I will absent myself when it becomes clear that I’m walking into a poison zone.

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3 Responses to “Struck Down”


  1. 1 Jen May 22, 2012 at 4:38 pm

    I think I hate upset stomachs worse than any other viral illness. Hate. Hate. Hate.

    I’m so sorry you’re sick. Sending healing thoughts your way.

    Somehow, I didn’t know about the impending court date and the year-long sociopath misery. I’m sending good vibes for that too.

  2. 2 jennatjugglinglife May 23, 2012 at 3:18 am

    That’s good advice from your mother–I say that as someone who has survived a situation with a sociopath.

    Feel better soon!

  3. 3 Bella Rum June 9, 2012 at 9:40 pm

    Mother knows best in this situation. Hope they put the sociopath where he belongs for a very long stay.

    I’m sure you’re feeling better by now, and I’m completely sympathetic with your infirmity, but I must admit that your clever way of telling the story had my husband and myself in stitches.


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