Friday, April 4, 2008

A Graphic Description of Food Poisoning

A few weeks ago I had the unfortunate experience known as food poisoning. For whatever reason, I seem to get afflicted by this more often than most people. I don’t know exactly why, but I surmise it has something to do with my penchant for late night eating and fast food. Here’s how things transpired.

After going to bed at my normal time of about 11pm and feeling fine, I awoke around 2:30AM to some mild stomach discomfort. Since it was preventing me from sleeping comfortably I opted to get out of bed, head to the kitchen and get a glass of water or something to quell the rumblings. I figured it was just a cramp or something and so I had some water, walked around the apartment for a few minutes and everything seemed to be settling down. Thinking I was out of the woods I got back into bed and tried to get back to sleep. Maybe 15 or 20 minutes later, I realized something was horribly wrong. Maybe the water had taken my fragile stomach above critical mass, or maybe I had been a ticking time bomb all along, who knows. What occurred next can only be described as the worst 18 hours of my life in recent memory.

I sprung from my bed and sprinted the 8 feet to my bathroom to unleash what can only be described as a torrent of vomit. The puke spilled forth from my body so violently that my back and abs ached and my throat felt like someone had scrubbed it raw with a hairbrush. We are talking a 3 to 4 flush affair here – the volume of vomit was impressive. After this massive outburst of vomit, my body strained and abused, I passed out on the living room floor for a brief while which allowed me to recover enough energy to crawl back into bed for several hours sleep.

Upon waking back up at 7:30AM, I actually felt pretty good and almost considered going to work. However, as I got dressed I felt that sharp, terrifying pain in my stomach again and new I was going to be in for a long day. I raced back into the bathroom and dispelled even more chunky, vile-smelling waste into my poor toilet. Hoping this would be the end of it but knowing in my heart that the worst is yet to come, my body kicked the expulsion into high gear.

In between rasping heaves, I realized this evacuation procedure was rapidly about to go full body and prepared for the worst. Moments later, a full-on colon eruption occurred the likes of which mortal man should ever have to experience. My ass felt like a fire hydrant that had been broken open and was spewing water into the street on a hot summer’s day. Only problem being that this wasn’t a summer’s day, and nothing resembling water was pouring out of me. Of course, for those of you wondering, I was also simultaneously throwing up while this occurred into my nearby sink. As you can imagine the aftermath on both the bathroom and myself was unholy. I briefly considered setting it ablaze in lieu of cleaning up, but decided against it at the last minute.

The rest of the day was spent interchangeably lying on the living room floor resembling a corpse, shit-splattering my toilet bowl, or heaving up bile. At one point my cat came over and pawed lightly at my face, presumably to check for signs of life. I have no idea how after both my late night bombing of the plumbing, or my early morning blast session, my body had anything left to expel besides some internal organs but it managed throughout the rest of the afternoon. I was able to think about eating a cracker or two at 6pm, and managed to hold down some soup by 8pm that night.

I retired to bed that evening feeling as if a hammer had bludgeoned my midsection, my throat had been seared in battery acid and my ass had been scrubbed raw. I was a broken and defeated man with my only glimmers of hope being that the soup I managed to slurp down an hour before hadn’t made a reappearance and that I had lost about 7 pounds in less than a day. The moral of the story here is, don’t get food poisoning. I only wish I knew what I got mine from.

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