Deathly Illness

I’ve never been as sick as I was this past Sunday. We had just met friends and completed an escape room.

We had biked to Stockholm; not the easiest journey and found our way around.  The Japanese Cherry Blossom Festival was happening in Kungstragarden and pretty pink flowers were falling in showers to the ground while lovely music played. So many different aspects of Japanese culture to enjoy behind the Swedish backdrop. We decided to bike a bit further and ended up at a sushi place settling down to eat.

Delicious salmon rolls, avocado and miso soup are always welcome distractions. We had to hurry as we had guests. We had our dinner party then before we knew it, everyone was on their way home.

The next morning on the Sunday, I felt a bit strange. I decided to shake it off and go to a gym class. After the hour of stretching and muscle conditioning, the feeling still hadn’t gone away. I came home and went straight to bed. I started getting hot and cold flashes and a pain enveloped my stomach. I had a pounding headache and I did not want to eat anything for fear that I would throw it back up. A horrid feeling tantamount to pain during a menstruation cycle. I thought I would sleep it off. It wouldn’t get the best of me. I heal easily. Or so I thought. I threw up. I hadn’t done that in ages.

I went in to work to my first class. I stayed for the full two hours but nearing that second hour, I felt a drip at the back of my throat. I knew I was going to be sick. I excused myself not once but twice and felt overwhelmingly at the mercy of my own body’s convulsions. It was the first day back to work after the holiday. I never take off work.

I had to leave for home. Perhaps some sleep would allow it to wear off.

I arrived home, changed into my home clothes and slipped underneath the covers with a hot water bottle. The first ten minutes were fine, then I started retching into the bucket that had been laid beside my bed the night before. The apple I had eaten in the morning was completely rejected. I thought to sleep again and again, I retched. I had to throw myself over to the bucket fast enough to rid myself of that nauseating feeling. Every 5 minutes became every 2 minutes. I didn’t think to call anyone but to lay in my bed and wait for it to pass.

I finally called an ambulance.

I waited two hours in the hospital before anyone spoke to me. I sat with a plastic bag, alone with my thoughts, throwing up and exhausted. Finally, I was put into a room and given an IV. They took samples of my blood and had me change into a hospital gown. They also gave me anti-nausea. I just lay on the hospital bed lifeless and tired. I hadn’t eaten anything since Sunday.

About an hour and a half passed, I felt a bit more energy. A bit more like myself. I’m trying to think whether I felt alone or just devoid of any thought or feeling at this point. I remember laying on that hospital bed thinking of nothing. I wondered why they had taken so long. What if I had passed out from dehydration? At the rate I was throwing up, it felt as though I could start hemorrhaging blood at any second. Maybe having that time to myself caused me to think of my next journey. Where I should be. My next move.

It’s almost Friday. I don’t feel the same as Monday but I am still not 100%. Sickness gives you a lot of time to think or alternately, to discover 100s of new shows on Netflix that you might have never known existed otherwise….to contemplate why you moved to some godforsaken country you never intended to move to …..the various types of tea that won’t make you throw up. I wondered who would be there for me. Who can care for me enough to dedicate their time and effort?

It is now Tuesday May 2nd. My stomach is still rumbling but hopefully, onto greener pastures

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1 Comment

  1. RZ said,

    May 2, 2017 at 05:46

    Very eloquent in your descriptions. I’d like to read more about your thoughts in a variety of things. Please write more frequently.


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