I don’t feel so good…
Today, my friends. I am a doughnut. No. Wait. That idea is making things worse. An onion ring? Dear god, somebody stop me. Perhaps a bagel then?
A plain, undecorated, bagel. And you might want to skip this post.
I am hollow straight through. But no worries, it’s a temporary condition, and unrelated to teen angst; no wailing of long-lost love here, today. Nope, I’ve just got the flu. Not The Flu, as in the virus that killed 20 million people in 1918, but a flu. A garden variety, spending-all-day-getting-to-know-the-cold-tiles-of-your-bathroom-floor stomach flu.
In hindsight, that odd feeling late last night was prescience. But too ambiguous. Not nearly as direct as the nausea that woke me at dawn this morning. For the first few hours, it didn’t seem so bad. Everybody seemed complacent enough to file in a more or less orderly fashion to the exit. But right around noon: chaos erupted. Literally. They stormed out the entrance, a crowd of lettuce chunks and chicken slivers that I had last seen the night before.
And good thing I remembered that beet salad, or I would have been much more worried.
I dug out the old gray hoodie with the torn front pocket. Sick days require baggy old clothing. And it’s amazing how cold I am, all my system’s energy directed elsewhere. I slouch around. I make ginger tea. I imagine the muscles in my thighs being cannibalized to feed my inner army, all those miles bicycled, burning away…
But all in all? It’s really not that bad.
I have a clean bed to lie in, walls to contain my moaning, and no one is asking anything of me.
Not like that time in Bosnia, where I was on the train from Mostar to Sarajevo, missing epic mountain vistas to bend over dirty train toilets in hellish mobile bathrooms, trying to match my quaking to their shaking. No resting in that restroom.
Or the childhood trip to Paris, where I sprayed Minute Maid orange juice all over Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth and my brother’s yellow walkman. Seriously disrupted his appreciation of Duran Duran.
Or the packed commuter train to Brussels where I nearly tested Belgian stoicism right there in the vestibule. “Get out of the badkamer, meneer businessman! Nu!!!”
I don’t get motion sick, I swear, I just have damned bad luck with trains. And I haven’t even told you about the worst one.
The border between Zambia and Tanzania…now that was an experience. But I think you’ve had enough. I know I have. Ask me about it some other time, when my belly resembles a placid crater lake more than an active volcano.
The point is that I can consciously realign my focus, adjust my perceptions, and be glad that I’m heaving in the comforts of Home. Not so “comfortable”, perhaps an airplane seat versus a bed of nails (or the other way around?) but could be a whole lot worse.
Seriously, I’ll have to tell you about that Zambian train sometime… I apologize to the people of that town.
But now it’s time for another cup of ginger tea and more of the novel I’m reading…that takes place in a certain country I can’t wait to visit…in less than two weeks…
May all your tea be properly steeped, your perceptions optimal, and your stomach congenial.
And your flus short-lived!
Seems as if you’re a bit under the weather. Get well soon.
Feeling better already, it was a pretty easy one. Thanks!
Oooh, dear. Get well soon. I don’t want to say anything here about having largely missed out on travel illness because that’s hubris if ever I heard it, but I feel for you over the sheer number of (especially train-related) mishaps you’ve had.
No worries, I think I’ve been pretty lucky, ill-luck onboard trains notwithstanding. And thanks! I’m feeling better already.
I really enjoyed Dreaming in Cuban! Get better!
hahahaha So much for my suspense! Feeling better already, thanks!
I’m pleased you mentioned Bosnia, that sprung to my mind the moment you mention vomit!
Ah yes, I remember you guys were the only ones up early enough to hear my hearty heaves, since, being hardcore, you were about to walk the x miles to the train station, while the rest of us softies coordinated a taxi share. And I think it was you who solved my quandary of whether or not to take the train by saying “Well, you lose a day being sick, and you basically do nothing while on a train, so might as well combine them, no?” I’m glad I took that train.
Oh god nothing worse than being sick when you have to travel! Hope you get over your flu soon.
You’re absolutely right. I used that comparison to make me feel a bit better, which must have helped, since it passed pretty quickly. Which is good news, since the next trip starts in a week…
Hope this is now behind you. No gross pun intended.
Everyone is now expecting a post about the Zambian Train Incident…
hahahaha I do so love a good pun. Ah, the Tazara Train… I’ll keep that in mind, it was quite an experience. (For a couple of the photos, there’s this quick intro: https://vagabondurges.com/2013/02/14/guest-blog-fromfor-my-friend-lisa-in-south-africa/)
It seems odd to “like” a post such as this (“Hey, happy to hear that you feel like crap!”), but such are the foibles of social media conventions.
Hopefully you’re completely over your malady at this point.
hahaha I know what you mean. I have debated “like”ing a variety of “This horrible thing just happened to me” posts. Maybe they should make an “I empathize” button? An “I (whatever supportive verb fits best) this” button?
The unpleasant part is past, but it took a big piece of my appetite with it. I have a “Dr’s appointment” at an excellent pizzeria tonight for treatment…
Just have to comment on the amazing ability to put an event as dreadful as this to such hilarious words, great work, loved it!
🙂 Thank you! If it made you laugh, then it was worth the nausea! (I kept trying to remind myself that the humor of the experience would outlast the unpleasantness!)
Oh trust me the humor persisted and still does, even around the world 🙂