I’m so sick. 😡 The overload of sodium and iron I had late last week was catapulted (some may say trebucheted, even) straight into full-blown overdose illness early Monday morning. Because I was a moron. I had a snack bag of popcorn Saturday night and promptly forgot about it.
Sunday, I woke up feeling bad, and when I went to get the eggs ourt of the refrigerator to make breakfast, I cracked the back of my head on the top of the cooler. I saw stars, stripes, bars, musical notes, birds … And because I didn’t give a shit about anything by then, Preston left home to scout for food. He came back with a 15-piece meal from KFC. I was hungry. I didn’t give a shit. I ate. And then I ate more for dinner.
And the TMI part is behind the cut for you “sensitive folks”. fomcrotflmao&stdc
I didn’t get to sleep until almost six Monday morning, and honestly, I can’t tell you when I got up. I know it was early because we had to get up early since we didn’t know when They were coming to deliver the new stove (which did come, and which I do love even though this one still doesn’t have a self-cleaning oven on it. :angry: I didn’t know you could get a brand new stove that didn’t self-clean. :warped:).
About the time I wanted to go to bed, around 1am, I realized how swollen my fingers were and how achy my body was. I knew then that I had fucked myself. I went straight into the loo for some acetaminophen, a laxative, and some Gas-X. By three, I was in tears and sitting here alternating the heating pad between my front and my back. I hate to throw up, but I figured if the heat from the heating pad on my stomach could make that happen, then I’d feel better. It did, but I didn’t feel better. 😦
Since then, I’ve had little relief. I take the Gas-X according to package instructions and take another laxative every twelve hours.
I didn’t get to sleep well until almost six; Preston let me sleep until noon, thank the gods and all that’s holy. I was so miserable today, though, that I lived on broth and orange Gatorade. Yes, both full of sodium, but I had to get something into/through my system somehow, and those are the only things that seemed halfway appetizing.
Added to that, I froze to death all day – sure sign I’m running a fever. (when I have a fever, my actual temperature registers in at a sweet 96*F.) The only position I could be in and be even a third of the way comfortable was laying down on either side, so I spent a lot of time in bed – and finished reading Liquor and moved on to Prime as well as listened to two of my own characters argue in my head all day, but I couldn’t do anything about those two, not today.
I held down some soup around 9:30pm, though, so that’s a plus. Still taking the laxatives every twelve hours, and the Gas-X, and still guzzling the Gatorade. At least today, though, my stomach doesn’t look perfectly round, and I don’t look like I’m ready to pop out Child Three (thank the gods).
You know you’ve been sick when you can actually celebrate having a small fart. 🙄