Starting to feel worse, I don’t think this is just the flu. Makes me think of a time, I think it was around 1998, when I suddenly became very ill. This is an excerpt I had previously written elsewhere, I’m not well enough to bother with typing it all out again, so I’ll just copy and paste it here for you, enjoy.
I woke up one morning, it was a Wednesday I recall, not feeling quite right. Feeling a little bloated, like I had gas in the upper part of my stomach. But thought nothing of it, I felt just fine otherwise. So, my buddy picked me up for work that morning, my wife (I was married at the time) had gone to the U.S., Indianapolis I believe, the day before for about a week. She had meetings or something for the company she worked for. Anyway I get to work, still feeling bloated, but not bad. Worked on a couple of machines, actually I think I worked on the shavers that morning, fixing and replacing the blades and so on. I worked for a custom manufacturing company in Toronto at the time by the way. Earlier in the shift I asked my boss if he had any Alka-seltzer or something, which he did, so I tried that. To no avail. By lunch time I started to feel worse, and I figured I was going to get even worse. So I went to my boss, said I wasn’t doing well and was going to take the rest of the day off. Which was fine, but I had to take the bus home, which was also fine. I remember waiting for the bus, starting to feel a little guilt since it seemed I wasn’t really feeling too bad. But, from that moment to the moment I remember walking, or should I say weaving, down my street, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours later, things changed drastically and fast. To get home, I had to take 3 buses maybe 4, I don’t quite remember. And by the time I got off the second bus to catch the 3rd, I was in rough shape, and don’t remember most of the trip. Actually I do remember I had to take 4 buses. The 4th was optional since I could walk home from that stop, but there was no way I’d be doing that this day. I remember waiting for the 3rd bus, leaning or sitting against the shelter with my eyes closed concentrating on keeping it all together, I had now become nauseous and a fever had kicked in, and was dizzy. So I listened for the bus, praying to hold on until I got home, which wouldn’t be for another half hour or more. And I wasn’t alone at the bus stop by the way, and I’m sure I looked like death to the other people waiting there with me. I tried to keep my eyes closed as much as I could because the light was also making me nauseous, and giving me a headache I think. I don’t remember that trip nor transferring onto the 4th bus, but suddenly I remember being on the 4th bus, almost there, and a mother and little daughter were sitting behind me, I think. I didn’t see them, I still had my eyes closed and was desperately trying to keep it together. They were chatting and so on, but the little girl was eating Smarties, I’m pretty sure, but it was something chocolaty anyway. And that was all I could smell, this somehow powerful scent of chocolate was like a punch in the face, and I thought for sure I was going to loose it and be sick on the bus. I came pretty damn close. And oddly, even though I couldn’t see the little girl, I knew every time she put more Smarties in her mouth and ate them by how strong the scent was. Anyway, I finally remember getting off at my stop, and stumbling down the street to my house. And it’s at this point I remember that it was during the winter sometime, I opened my eyes every 10 seconds lets say, to see the ground at my feet to navigate my way home. Finally, thank God, I get home. Get inside. Then all hell breaks loose. I’m in the bathroom upstairs, trying to heave into the toilet, but nothing is coming out, but my body tries repeatedly. I can’t describe the pain. It was if a giant gas bubble was blocking the way, and preventing me from throwing up. but my stomach kept trying and trying, and incredible pressure built up in my chest, like I said I can’t describe the pain in my chest and throat, not to mention the incredible pressure in my head, which I swear I thought was going to pop, and the pain….. I kept my eyes closed thinking for sure they would pop out of the sockets. Seriously. That went on for, well, it felt like a half hour, and I had to fight back hard to finally get it to stop. I crawl down the hallway to the bedroom and pull myself onto the bed. I lay there for a bit, my head spinning, my innards churning, sweating from a high fever. It’s then I realize I have to let the dogs out to go pee, and make sure they are fed and have water, in case I am unable to do so later. I lay on the couch, waiting for them to want to come back in, but back then I had a Siberian Husky and an Alaskan Malamute, and it was Winter time. So that may take awhile. But I get them back in with little effort, get a glass of water and digestive cookies to nibble later, half crawl my way back upstairs and flop in bed. A few moments later, the trots started. And I was crawling back and forth to the bathroom every 15 minutes, all day and most of the night. Until it got to just pure water coming out of my posterior. I remember writhing in bed, unable to be comfortable, sweating with fever and falling in and out of sleep. The dogs never left my side, I don’t think. I woke up the next day, not sure what time, but it was daylight. Soaking wet, with sweat, and not feeling much better. Still dizzy and disoriented. Sipped some water, could barely handle that. Called in to my boss, etc. Slowly made my way to the bathroom, happened to look in the mirror, and noticed that I had a black eye. My left eye was all black around the left side and so on. It appeared that all that pressure built up in my head trying to vomit, burst some blood vessels around my eye. I was too sick and in much pain to care much, but was a little surprised. Made my way back to bed, took a Tylenol, hoping it would stay down, and nibbled the edge of a digestive cookie. And it went on like this until Saturday night, Sunday morning when the fever finally broke. I was no longer dizzy from fever, but dizzy from not eating for 3 maybe 4 days, and drinking water every so often. I was weak and drained, could barely stand, but I was starting to feel better. The worst had passed. My wife was coming home that day, Sunday, and I was able to make a little soup for myself. The dogs were fine, apparently I had been able to look after them, but I didn’t remember. They stayed with me the whole time. I had also lost several pounds it turned out. I was weak, but went back to work that Monday, I was weak, but could still do my job. My boss and coworkers all said I looked a little thinner and white as a sheet. I look back and think, man, that was a close one. My descriptions of events and how I was feeling, barely relay how it really felt. I just remember not ever wanting to feel and go through that ever again, I don’t think I could survive that again.