And while I was sorry they were sick, I thought --> Sol and I certainly can't afford to be sick... glad we're all the way on the other side of the state.
... [do you see where this is going?]
As it turns out, that nasty flu was more widespread than I thought. It took my sister Amanda down on Monday. Sol was sick on Tuesday, which [oh yes] means Melanie couldn't go to work. Mama Mel went back to work Wednesday, feeling invincible, feeling on top of the world.
... [seriously, do you see where this is going?]
So there I was yesterday afternoon, sitting at my desk, diligently working and listening to Lou Monte radio on Pandora (think peppy Olive Garden songs), when all of a sudden that little twinge of nausea came creeping up my throat. I leaned my head back and repeated to myself, "This is not happening." And with that mantra, I scared that little twinge away. And I continued working.
Then that same nausea surfaced again, but this time it had grown to be 50x larger, and it was no longer a twinge of nausea... it was a typhoon wave of nausea that kept crashing into my esophagus, each crash making the sound "omg-this-is-the-end-I-am-going-to-die-and-I-can't-even-move." Then the peppy Olive Garden songs quit playing on Pandora, and so began the soundtrack of Melanie's slow and painful death. I sat there in my office, suffering the 2013 version of the Bubonic Plague, my face turning an odd shade of gray/green, as my computer blared "Torna a Surriento" at me (click HERE to listen, or use the video below).
**I think the first peak of nausea hit around 1:20... the second hit around 2:26... **
Nothing makes you want to crawl into a hole and die more than terribly obnoxious Italian opera from which you can't escape due to paralysis by stomach flu. If that's not a recognized medical diagnosis, ladies and gentlemen, I'll eat my socks.
I went home early from work yesterday
and spent the duration of the evening dying on the bathroom floor.
I did not go into work today.