Norovirus and You!

Hi guys, it’s autumn again!  Smell that autumn spice, drink that pumpkin coffee, watch the leaves turn colors, and gear up your immune system for another onslaught of bugs, boogums, and mitochondria-bursting germs.  I find that Rya and I like to write about when we’re sick, because hell, it’s funny after the fact.  During the illness, we want to kill someone…but afterwards, it becomes the fodder of many a blog post, if Google can be believed.  Which it can’t.  Or maybe it can.  Whatever.

Anyhow, while perusing my Facebook wall last week, I came across a post from my cousin (who happens to work at the same place as I do) asking, “Does anyone know anything about a stomach virus at work?”  I thought, “oh, that’s great,” and kept going.

Guess what.  The stomach virus is at work.  How do I know?  Because I have it now. 

Oh dear God, help me.

Now I am a pretty meticulously clean individual, I wash my hands a LOT (to the point where my skin is dried out), I shower every day, I do my laundry faithfully, and I am not the type that smells like a sweaty gym when you pass me.  And yet still I end up infiltrating my cellular pool with disgusting crud that exits my body in one holy hell of an ugly, ugly mess.

Everyone knows that awful feeling of waking up from a dead sleep with that tiny “oh, God, no” realization that the gears in your stomach will be reversing at any second.  And you stumble (why do you always stumble?) to the bathroom, knowing you’re not going to make it in time, but somehow do…and then the world spins as your guts cheerfully turn inside out and you’re certain your head will explode with the force of the churning, horrendous chaos bolting from your mouth and nose, and searing your tissues to ashes with the resulting Niagara Falls blast of stomach acid.  And if you’re lucky enough for it to also be blaring from the other end like the Space Shuttle taking off, well, then, my friend, you’re in for a Lovely Night.

My so-called Lovely Night finally deposited me in the emergency room around 2:30am on Sunday in a dehydrated, gasping mess.  The lady behind the counter took in my bedraggled appearance, clutching a bucket, wobbling in place, and sweating profusely, and cheerfully told me to take a seat in the waiting room with the other unfortunates.  Six hours later (we won’t discuss the definition of “emergency” here), I came home, pumped full of liquids and anti-nausea meds, and fell into a dead sleep for about 12 hours.  I’m now twice as rumpled, sick to death of Gatorade and Jello, and have a headache that would make Chuck Norris cry like a little bitch. But no vomiting and no explosive...well, let's just say the Shuttle is back in the hangar.  (Thank God.)

I came across a list of things people say when you have a stomach virus, things they should never say.  Remember Chuck Norris crying like a little bitch?  That’s cake walk in comparison what the sick person will do to you.  I am in full agreement.

1. You’ll probably lose some weight, haha!

Haha. Oh, how original, you made a funny. Think of how much weight you’ll gain when your lip is so huge from where my fist connected with it that you have to drag it around behind you.  Giggles.  Tee-hee.

2. Oh, just take some Pepto-Bismol, GAHD.

I’d love to take some, if it would stay down, asshole. Allow me to shove the bottle down your throat. Oooh, take a big chug now, don’t choke...GAAHD.

3. Ew, like I can’t stand it when people throw up.  Like, gross, if they throw up then I throw up.

Aww, poor lambkin.  Like, there’s the door.  Bye, Felicia.  Get the fuck outta here.

4. Do you have a fever? You look sweaty.

No, really, Sherlock?  Try vomiting constantly for 9 hours and see if you don't goddamn sweat.  I don't need to go to the gym for a month at this rate!  My chest muscles ache like I've been bench-pressing the Empire State Building!

This beast is supposed to be gone in 2-3 days from onset.  That makes tomorrow my 3^rd day.  I think I might make it.  I might even try eating something other than wibbly strawberry gelatin tonight.  Until then, where’s Chuck Norris…?

Stay healthy, guys.

-Rebecca