There is nothing- and I mean nothing worse than having broken sleep for two whole weeks. And just last night, it seemed like I was finally going to get a full night of sleep. But atlas! It was not ment to be, for I woke up from quite possibly the best dream I've ever had to major stomach cramps around 1:51 am ET.
I hugged my Gaara plushe and moaned, it hurt like hell. No...more like a firey pit of hell where my stomach is supposed to be. I had to get out of bed and into the bathroom, this was not easy because where I sleep is above the ground. I then had to sprint into the bathroom, tripping over my meddle-some cat Patches. Then it got worse- MUCH worse.
I had to go to the bathroom, but my stomach started plusing- it was only going to be a matter of mins if I couldn't clam it down. Lucky there was a bucket, I would have died if there wasn't.
After puking up my guts and finshing my "busises" I was left with a tough choice. Who to tell? Mom never gets home till about 3 or 4 am ET, but this was her night off...her only night with 8 hours of sleep. Dad would have screamed holy hell, and Durell would have just laughed. So I woke my Mother, which turned out to be the best choice.
She took care of it, and wrote my father a note telling what had happened. (she also took my temp, which was 94.4 degrees F.) She gave me some Peptobiso and back to bed I went. I later awoke 10 mins before my Dad came into the room.
He checked my Temp it was up to 97.1 degrees F. Better, but not good enough. So I stayed home. ALL DAY. This has been...the...most...boring....day...of...my...life. sad
That's what's new on my end.
Okage out azoo~
I hugged my Gaara plushe and moaned, it hurt like hell. No...more like a firey pit of hell where my stomach is supposed to be. I had to get out of bed and into the bathroom, this was not easy because where I sleep is above the ground. I then had to sprint into the bathroom, tripping over my meddle-some cat Patches. Then it got worse- MUCH worse.
I had to go to the bathroom, but my stomach started plusing- it was only going to be a matter of mins if I couldn't clam it down. Lucky there was a bucket, I would have died if there wasn't.
After puking up my guts and finshing my "busises" I was left with a tough choice. Who to tell? Mom never gets home till about 3 or 4 am ET, but this was her night off...her only night with 8 hours of sleep. Dad would have screamed holy hell, and Durell would have just laughed. So I woke my Mother, which turned out to be the best choice.
She took care of it, and wrote my father a note telling what had happened. (she also took my temp, which was 94.4 degrees F.) She gave me some Peptobiso and back to bed I went. I later awoke 10 mins before my Dad came into the room.
He checked my Temp it was up to 97.1 degrees F. Better, but not good enough. So I stayed home. ALL DAY. This has been...the...most...boring....day...of...my...life. sad
That's what's new on my end.
Okage out azoo~
