Death
I'm pretty sure this morning I was close to death.
I was up first at 5am, pain throbbing through my left eye, a familiar churning in my stomach. When my body wakes me from a dead sleep due to distress, its usually too late to do anything about it, but each time I try anyway. I start by slapping water on my face, I take my little brown capsule, down a few Tums, and rub a little peppermint oil on my tummy. This morning had the added bonus of taking a toke or two off the pipe, which under normal circumstances, settles my stomach. Then I lie back down, elevating my right leg and pray to God that the nausea subsides.
And of course, it doesn't. Wave after wave of warmth flows over my body until I know that waiting any longer is not an option. In a few quick steps, I'm retching over the bathtub. Hey look, there's my little brown pill. Retch! Wow, there's a lot of blood. Heave! What the hell is that? Looks like little teeth... instead of poking around in my own vomit, I run my slimy tongue over my teeth, making sure each one is still in its place. When satisfied, I take hold of the removable shower head, turn on the hot water and wash the bile down the drain. I'll bleach it later in the day when I'm feeling better.
I stumble over to the sink and splash cool water on my face. Its beet red and sweaty, like I'd just come in from a run. I squeeze a healthy stripe of cinnamon toothpaste onto my brush, and collapse onto the toilet to slowly stroke my teeth. My teeth hurt. They started hurting when this little fun fest started becoming a habit.
I crawl back into bed, burrowing under the covers. In the dark, my dog licks my face letting me know its going to be okay. If only I could believe her. It feels like a dagger piercing right through my ocular cavity. I try to go to my happy place so sleep can overcome the pain and take me away.
Its only a few hours before I'm up again. The sun is up now and the pain in my head is so intense, I can barely open my eyes. When I try, involuntary tears well up and force them shut again. The rumbling in my stomach is back. Its actually a strange sensation because I know there is nothing actually in the organ now. Its like a person yelling in an empty house. It doesn't quite make sense. Its not so bad yet, so I might be able to fend off this attack. I slump to the floor and crawl to the bathroom just in case. The tile is cool under my hands. It feels good. I lie down and feel the coolness on the side of my face, hoping maybe it will put out the fire in my head. Of course it doesn't, and I pass out right there on the bathroom floor.
I'm up again. Someone is helping me into bed. I'm pretty sure I'm dying now. The pain is so bad that I'm actually praying for death. I think my brain was trying to leave my skull by way of my left eye. If I owned a gun, I would have put myself out of my misery. The rest a bit of a blur. I'm pretty sure there was an exchange about taking me to the hospital. I think I took some sort of medicine... Tylenol maybe? Beyond that, I'm not sure what is real and what is not before I lost consciousness.
Its evening now. I have a residual headache a bit on par with a hangover. Its really not bad. I was even able to eat a little something. I can't believe I've lost an entire day though. Or shall I say, that I lost another day. Its becoming more frequent. It makes me wonder what will become of me.
I was up first at 5am, pain throbbing through my left eye, a familiar churning in my stomach. When my body wakes me from a dead sleep due to distress, its usually too late to do anything about it, but each time I try anyway. I start by slapping water on my face, I take my little brown capsule, down a few Tums, and rub a little peppermint oil on my tummy. This morning had the added bonus of taking a toke or two off the pipe, which under normal circumstances, settles my stomach. Then I lie back down, elevating my right leg and pray to God that the nausea subsides.
And of course, it doesn't. Wave after wave of warmth flows over my body until I know that waiting any longer is not an option. In a few quick steps, I'm retching over the bathtub. Hey look, there's my little brown pill. Retch! Wow, there's a lot of blood. Heave! What the hell is that? Looks like little teeth... instead of poking around in my own vomit, I run my slimy tongue over my teeth, making sure each one is still in its place. When satisfied, I take hold of the removable shower head, turn on the hot water and wash the bile down the drain. I'll bleach it later in the day when I'm feeling better.
I stumble over to the sink and splash cool water on my face. Its beet red and sweaty, like I'd just come in from a run. I squeeze a healthy stripe of cinnamon toothpaste onto my brush, and collapse onto the toilet to slowly stroke my teeth. My teeth hurt. They started hurting when this little fun fest started becoming a habit.
I crawl back into bed, burrowing under the covers. In the dark, my dog licks my face letting me know its going to be okay. If only I could believe her. It feels like a dagger piercing right through my ocular cavity. I try to go to my happy place so sleep can overcome the pain and take me away.
Its only a few hours before I'm up again. The sun is up now and the pain in my head is so intense, I can barely open my eyes. When I try, involuntary tears well up and force them shut again. The rumbling in my stomach is back. Its actually a strange sensation because I know there is nothing actually in the organ now. Its like a person yelling in an empty house. It doesn't quite make sense. Its not so bad yet, so I might be able to fend off this attack. I slump to the floor and crawl to the bathroom just in case. The tile is cool under my hands. It feels good. I lie down and feel the coolness on the side of my face, hoping maybe it will put out the fire in my head. Of course it doesn't, and I pass out right there on the bathroom floor.
I'm up again. Someone is helping me into bed. I'm pretty sure I'm dying now. The pain is so bad that I'm actually praying for death. I think my brain was trying to leave my skull by way of my left eye. If I owned a gun, I would have put myself out of my misery. The rest a bit of a blur. I'm pretty sure there was an exchange about taking me to the hospital. I think I took some sort of medicine... Tylenol maybe? Beyond that, I'm not sure what is real and what is not before I lost consciousness.
Its evening now. I have a residual headache a bit on par with a hangover. Its really not bad. I was even able to eat a little something. I can't believe I've lost an entire day though. Or shall I say, that I lost another day. Its becoming more frequent. It makes me wonder what will become of me.
posted by Ninja Toes at 5:23 PM
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