Stomach flu or something... (yes, AGAIN!)

It's funny how clear life suddenly becomes when you wake up at 5 a.m. and just *know* that eventually you're going to have to run to the bathroom to throw up. Your body is telling your mind - in no nonsense terms - that this will eventually have to happen. So you plead with yourself, you take shallow breaths, you DON'T think about food, picture a sea of calm white when you close your eyes and you try to hold on.... but then comes the point when enough is just enough, and you lurch/run/crawl to the bathroom. (This latter is sometimes done with various degrees of success... As evident that one time with Micke and the TV)

Since this happened early in the morning (hello! 5 a.m!), and I'm a generally decent human being, I didn't want to wake up Micke while I did all of this... activity. So, I left out the lights, and closed the bathroom door. He managed to sleep through all the ... activity ... and even the shower I had to take afterwards, because I felt like crap and was freezing like crazy. I even brushed my teeth, and sprayed the goddamn sink and toilet with Chlorine (!) to clean it, and still he slept on.

He did wake up when I accidentally walked into the door to our bedroom on my way back.

And he was so surprised that I had had to go and ... do the activity, because he hadn't heard a thing. And then he proved that sometimes sleepy people really are pigs, because he got up and went to pee, and then complained when he got back how the bathroom stunk. And how my breath was evil.


Well, now it's two days later, and although I'm pretty weak and shaky, I at least feel slightly back to normal. Micke said I looked emaciated (swe. tärd), because of the only-liquids-please-diet I had been "eating". All I know is that I'm quite hypoglycemic, but don't really feel up for eating solids yet. Let's see how dinner goes, then I might be back so normal.