Death by Breakstones

(October 23, 2006)

This is totally weird, I was sick for two weekends in a row, yet fine all week. What the fuck?

Last weekend, Saturday and Sunday the 14th and 15th, I was done feeling PMSy, but a cold had set in. I pretty much slept, ate broth and saltines and gingerale, took asprin and slept. Oh, with much blearily miserable nose-blowing in between. So I missed the Auto Interiors show at the Abbey on Saturday night, in favor of staying cuddled up in my quilt with tea and sympathy.

THIS weekend, sick again! But differently. I felt great all week, and I was totally ready for the Bentmen on Saturday night (probably their last show ever). I had done laundry that day, colored my hair, done a bunch of errands. It was in the later evening, say 7 or so, when my body decided that instead of getting dressed to go to the show, it would rather shoot bad things out of every exit, NOW. "And here's some cramps and cold sweats too," it said.

OH MAN, I was down hard. Food poisoning, maybe? As I was huddled in the bathroom, miserably allowing my intestines to do...um, I was going to use the expression "to do their worst" but I would be a lying sack of sh...never mind.

Anyway, while I was in the tiled-den-of-incontinence, I thought about a show I saw on The Learning Channel or something like that, where I learned that it takes a good day to gestate a good case of food poisoning, so it wasn't anything I'd eaten earlier in the day (eggs and toast, then later a bowl of vegetable soup and crackers). Possible culprit? I decided on a container of cottage cheese & applesauce that comprised the prior day's lunch. A Breakstones Mixin's. It was the only thing that I had eaten that Joe had not eaten.

Oh yeah, Joe. It was only today that I told him, "Baby? Thank you for taking care of me on Saturday night, but..." and then I had to explain that his first reaction to my sounds-of-urgent-hurling might have been something more comforting than what I heard from the other side of the bathroom door. An anxious, "I hope I don't get sick, too."

I'm glad he didn't, too, but at the precise moment when he said that, I did not care, for several very immediate, un-ignorable reasons.

It was kind of like air sickness though. In a few hours I was mostly okay again.

I took it easy Sunday.

Today I'm fine.

I really could use a regular, healthy weekend now though.