Losing a week

Whoever said that they had a "touch of a stomach bug" did not have the same stomach bug that I had. My stomach bug was a mutant.

Last Tuesday night, like so many nights in my past I read some mind candy (The Nanny Diaries) and went to bed. At 1:12 a.m., I was jolted from sleep with the sudden urge to purge.
And purge I did.
For 38 hours.
Yes, 38 hours.
Even water, my dear friend and beverage of choice, was not going to stay within the confines of my person. It was as if there was a fire drill going on in my body. "Everyone out, go, go go."

My precious pet Windsor had no idea what was going on. He slept next to me on the bathroom floor and fled when the exorcism started again. However, he would always return, checking on me. I never tought him to dial 911, and pledged that if I survived that I would teach him how to use the speed dial function when given the correct command, which I am sure would be something like, "Dear God take me now."

2 days of sickness
2 days of weakness
-6 lbs (totally not worth it)

The office was somewhat understanding. I think they would have been more understanding if I had installed a bathroom cam.

"It's going around," said friends and coworkers. I just hope that it does not come BACK around. I've had my turn.

So I am back. I lived through it and I am thankful.