Never felt so sick
Dec. 10th, 2005 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eclectic_boyAlex at the Swarthmore post office was out Tuesday and Wednesday; when he was back Thursday he told me the flu he'd had "made me feel like I was gonna die". I thought it was an overstatement, but this morning I knew exactly what he meant -- not from flu but...
Last night Philcon started, and there was a big dinner trip of nine people (a few of whom were just in the neighborhood -- hi Mark, hi Chris!); we went to an Italian restaurant and I had a gyro. Everything felt fine at the time, but by midnight I was feeling lousy and went to bed "early" (in our hotel room at the Marriott). I was burping and my body had chills and my head felt hot; I wasn't able to sleep at all, just lay there shifting position every so often to try to warm up my cold limbs. Everybody else got back around 2AM and crashed pretty quickly. Around 3 I weak-leggedly made it to the bathroom for a cold washcloth to put over my definitely-feverish-now head; the fever seemed to break around 4:30 but I still couldn't go to sleep at all and still felt bad. I decided to bag Philcon for Saturday and take the first SEPTA home.
I left the room at 5:30 and slowly walked down to the train station to learn that the first outbound train on Saturdays isn't til 7:17. I managed to find![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ccommack and sinsofthedove sprawled in some comfy chairs and joined them for an hour, all of us groggy. I finally went back to the station, feeling a little better after the walk, and rode out to Swat.
By 49th St. station I was feeling terrible -- sweating, chills, tired. I'd had no sleep at all and only about 4 hours the day before. When the conductor came by I could hardly talk; I told him I had food poisoning and he suggested I wait in the space between train cars with the window open for fresh air. It seemed like an okay suggestion, but I discovered I was physically unable to stand up--when I tried a got a wave of nausea and my vision went all sparkly. This was when I thought of Alex the postal clerk. I still don't think it's flu, though; too much evidence that something gyro-flavored in my tummy is being fought against. I did manage to stand up, and lurched along the car honestly wondering if I was going to pass out. But it turned out he had exactly the right suggestion -- after standing in the cold air for five minutes I felt human, and almost okay.
I made it to Swarthmore and Greylock without any further drama, had a few sips of water and collapsed into bed. I slept, but only for 45-60 minutes at a time. Every time I woke up I felt a little better, until this most recent one where I decided I could actually get up and see what kind of a day I could salvage. No leaving the apartment, but I feel much better and had some solid food (just cereal washed down with ginger ale--yay, precious amber stomach-calming liquid!). I'll be napping on and off today, I bet, and if at all possible am heading back for the last day of Philcon tomorrow.
But no gyros.
Last night Philcon started, and there was a big dinner trip of nine people (a few of whom were just in the neighborhood -- hi Mark, hi Chris!); we went to an Italian restaurant and I had a gyro. Everything felt fine at the time, but by midnight I was feeling lousy and went to bed "early" (in our hotel room at the Marriott). I was burping and my body had chills and my head felt hot; I wasn't able to sleep at all, just lay there shifting position every so often to try to warm up my cold limbs. Everybody else got back around 2AM and crashed pretty quickly. Around 3 I weak-leggedly made it to the bathroom for a cold washcloth to put over my definitely-feverish-now head; the fever seemed to break around 4:30 but I still couldn't go to sleep at all and still felt bad. I decided to bag Philcon for Saturday and take the first SEPTA home.
I left the room at 5:30 and slowly walked down to the train station to learn that the first outbound train on Saturdays isn't til 7:17. I managed to find
ccommack and sinsofthedove sprawled in some comfy chairs and joined them for an hour, all of us groggy. I finally went back to the station, feeling a little better after the walk, and rode out to Swat.By 49th St. station I was feeling terrible -- sweating, chills, tired. I'd had no sleep at all and only about 4 hours the day before. When the conductor came by I could hardly talk; I told him I had food poisoning and he suggested I wait in the space between train cars with the window open for fresh air. It seemed like an okay suggestion, but I discovered I was physically unable to stand up--when I tried a got a wave of nausea and my vision went all sparkly. This was when I thought of Alex the postal clerk. I still don't think it's flu, though; too much evidence that something gyro-flavored in my tummy is being fought against. I did manage to stand up, and lurched along the car honestly wondering if I was going to pass out. But it turned out he had exactly the right suggestion -- after standing in the cold air for five minutes I felt human, and almost okay.
I made it to Swarthmore and Greylock without any further drama, had a few sips of water and collapsed into bed. I slept, but only for 45-60 minutes at a time. Every time I woke up I felt a little better, until this most recent one where I decided I could actually get up and see what kind of a day I could salvage. No leaving the apartment, but I feel much better and had some solid food (just cereal washed down with ginger ale--yay, precious amber stomach-calming liquid!). I'll be napping on and off today, I bet, and if at all possible am heading back for the last day of Philcon tomorrow.
But no gyros.
