Saturday, June 29, 2013

This Kid Is Sick, Man

I know that I ought not do posts on things like vomiting. But I am. I also tend to take a bajillion pictures of my bedroom when I spend three days in a row being immobile. These are included. Lots of pictures... of everything. During this wave of sickness, I tended to lean towards a fascination with the freckles on my left arm and hand.




Ever been so sick where you lay on the wooden floor for forty-two minutes thinking, "I should really change positions. For reals. This is not comfortable."

And then the inner dialogue starts.

"But changing positions involves... moving. And moving involves..."

And you continue to lay there. and lie there. And think about if you are laying or lying or lieing or licking or liming

Two days ago I got hit by something. Maybe it was that plum.

I was eating broth with carrots in it when I realized, well, I wasn't hungry. I didn't feel so great. I felt... ugh.

1 PM meant it was time for me to go watch the Montessori kids nap so I ambled down into the basement, prepped for a peaceful time of rest. I love watching them nap. It's super chill. I get to have quiet time and take kids to "piss-a-la." By the way, I've never heard someone make peeing sound so cute. There's this one girl and, when she's done on the throne, she looks up with these huge baby brown eyes and says, "da piss-a-la!" I think that means something like, "I'm done urinating."

Anyways, just 10 minutes into it, I was at the point where I couldn't sit up anymore. The other teachers were still there helping me get them down and I told 'em I had to lie down. That's all I had to do, right, just lie down?

1:30 PM, they left, and I felt like crap. But, the thing is, when your single job is to just be on a bed and watch kids nap, you're not really in a place to ask to not do it as you'd be doing the exact same thing if you were in your bed.

Then it hit me.

I rushed to the bathroom. Door locked.
Rushed to my apartment. Door locked.
Rushed outside. Hid. Bent over. Oi.

I wiped my mouth and resumed my station on the bed.

4 minutes later, I was in the bathroom, then unlocked. I figured that would be it... right?

But I felt like crap, man. I didn't feel so great at all.

I wandered up the stairs and Kaity (God bless the Americans -- God bless Kaity) and she offered to take over for me. Back in my room, the real fun began.

What happened before were just little "blaaaahs" but, within' an hour, I had that stuff gushing out of my mouth. It was the kind of vomit that makes you sweat and as it forcefully shoots out of your nose.

There is one room in the entire house that we have all been banned from - Carrie's room. There might as well be two giant troll's blocking the entrance - there ain't no way I'd ever go in there. Carrie's is the wonderful English woman (fluent in German, though, and lives in Germany too) who I've found some lovely companionship in this past month. Anyways, today I did the unthinkable, I opened those doors and stepped in while she was out.

See, our apartment has two levels and I'm on the top. Carrie has the single bedroom on the same level as the bathroom. There was no way I was going up those stairs and trying to make them down it each time I needed to....

"Maybe I should listen to some more of the Narnia series..." I thought.
Nope. Too exhausted.
"Come on, Margaret, you can't be too tired to listen to something."
Wrong. You can be.
Wayyyy to tired for that stuff.

I canceled English classes for the day.

"Maegi, what's wrong?" a Ukrainian girl asked as I stepped outside for a moment to make sure my students would be told.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You look so... white..."

Guess I was white. That's new.

Miming out the act of vomiting is very simple.

I slipped back inside after getting a rewarding hug from Kaity (I blessed her already, didn't I? God Bless Kaity, amen).

Passed out on the chair.
Passed out on the floor.

Carrie wasn't quite sure what I was doing there but she let me sleep.

By 10:45 PM or so, I decided that 7 hours on the wooden floor was enough and that I should, perhaps, consider going upstairs. Well, actually, I stated thinking that at 7 PM but it wasn't until 10:45 PM that I got the initiative to go up those stairs (there's a lot of them, you know).

Crap. I feel gross.
I feel exhausted.
This... this... is there an end to this?

Time to sleep, right? Nope. Body decided it was chill just "bein'" until around 1:23 AM.
Awake at 10ish AM.

Thought I was feelin' like a champ... right?

This is the toast I tried to eat for "breakfast":


Eventually I finished it. Yes, I know there is peanut butter on it. Carrie just moved out and left it and I couldn't resist.

After an hour, I had finished my toast. For the next 5 hours I regretted it. Weird toast-y gurgles kept coming up. "Come on, body. Pull it together!" *gurgle-splurch*

Overall, during the day, I ate two whole pieces of toast and never once felt good about it.


Carrie had left a stack of books by Dr. Seuss and Stan and Jan Berenstain. I carried them up to bed and sprawled out with those luscious reads from the '60s and '70s.

"I do not like them Sam I AM!"


I sang Carpenters songs out loud to my ceiling. Me and Carol King really got along.

"Rainy days and Mondays always get me dooowwwwwwn."


I spent the day scribbling in my notebook. I wrote out important lists like what I was looking forward to if I ever settled. Number one on the list was "curling club" -- apparently I was excited to get to be a member again. Number two was "start canning things." Number five is "have a hot water bottle." Curling, cans, and hot water bottles? I've got a lot to look forward to. That sentence, there, by the way, was by no means my sarcastic voice. And I wasn't being sarcastic when I said I wasn't sarcastic. Genuine. I love curling. I miss it. I want to can fiddle heads and apricots.

Other notes include, "Sarah [Wyler], Hannah [Garcia], Carole [Bronson], Alex [Staheli]."
"One of the reasons I take pictures, my goal, is I want people to see what i see when I look at them. Beautiful people."
"I really want to visit all 59 national parks - maybe only 50."


Then I made a list of things I wanted in a future husband.

Number one on the list?
"Will go to highland games with me."

other highlights include
"if he has facial hair, I get full rights to touch it"
"willing to dance - especially in kitchens and while camping"
"isn't picky about where he sleeps"

Those are the legible ones. Oh man, girl, you've got your priorities straight! There are others where I'm not sure at all what I meant.
"mayyyybe... ok w/ team"
"bi-cy-cle"

This is why sick people should have notebooks to scribble in.


There was also a list I made of bands on my iPod that followed the "The _________" format.

The... Vulgar Boatmen, Books, Bicycles, Buckinhams, Byrds, Carpenters, Chap, Chieftans, Churchburner, Clash, Clientele, Coral, 1900s, 5th Dimension, 88, Afters, All American Rejects, Ananas Professionals, Antlers, Bachs, Beatles, Bird & the Bee, Black Santiagos, Blow, Civil Wars, Cyrkle, Darlings, Crokes, Deadly Grapefruit, Decaffinated Bandits Washboard Quartet, Decemberists, Donkys, Donut Man, D0ors, Dwarf Chorus, Dream Acadmey, Elms, Endless Bummer, Eurythmics, Felttips, Fireman, Flaming Lips, Flinstones, Folkadots, Foundations, Galactic Heroes, Get Arounds...

and then I fell asleep.

I woke up at 6:55 PM. Ate a piece of toast. Regretted it.
Read an entire book.
Felt it was time to sleep by 10 PM.

Body thought otherwise.

I could not sleep.

More reading.

Lights out by midnight and, at 1 AM, something happened....

At 1 AM, something strange happens to me called, "I think listening to Justin Bieber is a great idea."
(hence the note, "at 1 AM crappy music.")

I then proceeded to turn to the playlist of music called, "Straight Off the Radio." It's songs I might not always like to admit I have. I listened to Carly Rae Jepsen. I listened to Cee Lo. Replay. There was no, no regrets in listening to "Last Friday Night" by Katy Perry. Things really took a turn for the worse when I started to listen to "High School Musical." I missed Emily Lynch. Sometimes life hits a low....

Margaret Hubert! It is time to sleep.
"But.. but... we're all in this together...."
I wanted to do the dance.

Day Three of Being Sick

And now it's today! Today is Saturday. I woke up feeling extra crappy. My body took about an hour in the bathroom to make sure it was totally, completely empty.

Roommate Anya wants me to eat something but I... I don't think I'm ready for that.

Curled up in a ball, I did a post on Facebook, "day 3 in bed. if anyone wants to buy me matilda, it's on my amazon wishlist. . i've read the sample thrice. body is empty. goal for today: drink 1 glass h2o. cheers."

Truly, what I had been desiring all day, was to read, "Matilda," by Roald Dahl. I love that book. But, it costs dollars on Amazon and I didn't have it in me to spend them. But... Matilda!

Neil, a wonderful man I met at the curling club back in 2008, jumped in and bought it for me. I am still really grateful. I haven't finished it yet and like having something to look forward to.

So that's where I'm at now. Ready to go read Matilda.

And you have now read about the time in the Ukraine where I got sick....

2 comments:

  1. I spent a similar 3 days lying in bed in Thailand - had a drink with ice made from untreated water. On third day was able to eat and keep down plain white rice. So sorry you had to go throught this, and am glad you're well enough now to write and post your photos.

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  2. Look at it this way, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and in this case it actually applies! As long as you take your vitamins/minerals, your immune system will be stronger. Then you can eat all that yummy food that's been sitting on the counter for a day or so and not throw up. Hooo rah. :)

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Your words make me grin.

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