Friday, May 22, 2009

Ouch

The pain sits behind my right eye. It's a dull throb when it ebbs and a serrated knife twisting around and around when hits its peak. The pain is so bad that it makes me want to vomit. It's brutal. When the throb turns to knife, the sweat comes. Little spiders crawling through my hair, twisting and weaving over my scalp, down to my neck, meeting and joining with other spiders. Bigger now. Fat rivulets sliding down my chest and back.

Then the knife stops twisting, the throb returns, the sweats subside and I'm freezing. Shivering. It's 80 fucking degrees and I'm cold.

This is how I woke up this morning. This is how I showered. I was actually sweating in the shower. Is that even possible. I showered, I tried to dry off and the water kept pouring out of me. I drank two bottles of water to try and replenish my already low supply. My futil attempt at hydration resulted in the nausea. I guzzled the water making my stomach ache as much as my head.

Well done Floogin.

I went back to bed. I never do this.


I woke up at 8. Let's see....nausea? Check....Burning, aching throb in the head? Check....Take another shower.

Second shower didn't help.

Got dressed, using the Lamaze breathing whenever the pain grew to the point of unbearable, creating the urge to spew water and whatever else was residing in my gut.

Noticed the blood on the pillowcase. Not much but where the fuck did that come from? Ran to the bathroom, looked for cuts on my face, neck, shoulders. Found none.

Ebola?

Maybe.

Got myself dressed, still doing the Lamaze thing, trying to will the pain away.

My son is on cloud nine, Daddy's taking him to school today.

Daddy's wishing for death and can't let the little guy see how miserable he is. So, off we go, holding Floogin Junior's hand. It's hot out,I'm walking with my boy, the dull throb is almost bearable when, suddenly, my hair is wet, my shirt is sticking to my body, I'm blinded by pain and, if I had any food in me, I'd be puking right there, on the sidewalk, possibly on my kid.

I'm considering handing my son off to someone and leaping in front of a bus when I hear his voice, faint, barely audible over the pounding in my head and the normal morning chaos and cacaphony.

"This is the best day ever daddy. I love you. I want to walk to school with you every morning."


And through this agony, this blinding pain, this vomit swallowing hell, I'm smiling. Beaming.

I get to the school and the teacher shows me the book my son put together. They all did a "this is me" type book. Pictures they drew with things like "I'm 4, My favorite color is blue" and so on.

I flip through the book and there, at the end , the last page I see.

I'm happiest when "my daddy plays with me alone."
I'm sad when "my daddy plays with my sister."
When I grow up I want to be "a daddy like my daddy, he's the best."


I'm still swallowing bile, sweating and near death, dying from the pounding in my head but I'm smiling. Big time.

Sadly, I am supposed to meet a friend for drinks tonight and the thought of vodka is making me want to puke. Yes, it's a hangover, not a tumor or some other horrific thing.

Never did find out where the blood came from.

8 comments:

Aisha said...

Are you sure that it's a hangover? That sounds pretty terrible. I have swine flu on the brain right now, so that was my first thought.

How you feeling now? Better?

(I'm not laughing at this, i'm not a sadist)

Floogin McNoogin said...

I'll live.

I'll also be hungover tomorrow as well. No way I'm going to go out with friends and not wind up drinking.

Anonymous said...

you truly are a sucker for punishment. But if it's any consolation, I felt the same way not but a few hours after I saw you last.
Have not drank to that excess since.
Love the daddy thing...he'll be a charmer like his old man.
yep..I said that...

Floogin McNoogin said...

I recal being rather hung over the next morning as well. We all were. You didn't have to contend with a 4 hour business pitch. That was hell.

Anonymous said...

and you didn't have to deal with the motion of nauseating car sickness, a chatty cathy doll in the back seat and one very pissed off worse half. Was a fun ride.
would've traded you places.

Laura said...

My "secret", especially after this past weekend is water, water, water....before during and after.

Anonymous said...

And...the sucker for punishment award goes to...
SEE ABOVE.

Trenton said...

Floogin, Are you sure that you didn't get bit by a bug? How big a spot was it? Could it have been a bedbug? I know that sounds like an odd question, but those little bastards are making a comeback. Might be something worth checking out.

Oh, and it could ALWAYS be worse. Trust me on this...

Trent :-)