I really, really, really... No, I mean REALLLLLLY... hate barfing. (Sorry, I can't think of a better word. Vomiting seems so technical) So, for two whole days this last weekend, I was in utter hell.
I can handle being sick... I can stand the aches, the pains, the feeling like my brain is in a vice-grip. I, even, don't mind laying on the couch under six blankets because I can't get warm even though I'm sweating.
It's that sudden oh-shit-I'm-going-to-be-sick-don't-let-me-barf-all-over-my-clothes-or-the-floor-or-Joe. (I have to admit, it'd be funny to barf on someone, but also icky. That's besides the point) You have no warning sometimes! NONE! And then you are scrambling for some receptacle so as not to ruin the floor.
AND! I forgot this before, why does it have to be so violent that I pull half the muscles in my back! I was in more pain from the muscles two days later than I was from the actual heaving.....
Now, as I sit here typing this, thinking about how nasty a blog about barf is, I know I'm not alone in my hate for this nasty act. I know you are sitting there, cringing, maybe gagging a bit, but I feel like I needed to rant a little.
A mental heave, if you will.
Now, go, have a good day! Just think - At least you aren't hugging the porcelain. Any time you aren't, life is good.