I never saw it coming. One minute I was fine; the next minute I was nauseated, and the minute after that I was shooting baskets in the restroom at work.
My first thought was the turkey bacon, but my husband and I had shared it and he was fine, back in his office, happily treating patients (at least it wasn’t him that got targeted–he’s the sole breadwinner these days).
But no, I’m fairly certain it was the raisins I snacked on after lunch. They had been in my truck for most of the South Texas summer and although they tasted fine, they probably sported some microbial cultures my body had no idea how to handle. It’s the only plausible explanation, since it was the only menu difference between my husband and me.
Afterward, I felt much better and thought, great! Just a fluke.
Nope. Not once, but twice more. I had less of a warning each time, but still made it. The second verse was the same as the first, but the third one had me hands-on demonstrating Dr. Perryman’s Ipecac story as told in Pharmacology-Toxicology class. Lived it almost verbatim.
At least it was on a quiet sidestreet with the occasional traffic. I hoped and prayed that no old people would stand there gaping at me, thinking to themselves, “kids these days. Must be drunk or on drugs. Hoodlum youngins'”.
A prophylactic note to those presumptuous old farts (how’s that for hypocrisy?): just because someone gets out of their truck to play target practice on a road shoulder with their raisins doesn’t mean it’s somehow my fault–other than that I shouldn’t have eaten raisins with undetectable mold on them.
I also prayed no one would stop – the gesture is nice but I can handle myself. I’ll be fine.
Fast forward a couple hours. We’re home safe, with no further excitement. I’m still achy, weak, and my inner biochemical equilibrium is still fairly unstable. But I’m not flat-out nauseated, and I have simultaneous excuses to belch, camp out on the couch, skip grocery shopping, watch TV, surf the net, and veg the entire evening. Plus, I’ve kept my sips of water down, and I’m working up the courage to cautiously brave some soup.
Wish me luck.