::: Golden Week, Part Luk (6) ... pronounced "look"...only don't fully say the 'k'

About 1.30am or 2am, I feel something in my stomach trying to get out. I get up out of bed and head to the restroom and just feel sick and thirsty. I use the restroom and grab some water out of the cooler. Uncomfortable and not fun, but nothing too exciting...at least for another 30 minutes.

I woke up again...and now I am pissed! I hate waking up in the middle of the night. It is like someone is stealing from me. I get pissed. Then I feel my stomach. Eyes bug wide open. There is a monster growling in my stomach...and he's even more pissed than I am. He wins. Off I run.

This may um...get...um...graphic at times. Parental Guidance suggested.

Let's just say that I run to the restroom and park myself where you are supposed to park, and as Larry the Cable Guy says...I could have pooped through a keyhole it was going so straight and fast! Then...the other end kicked in. I am projectile out of both ends and making ungodly noises in the bathroom next to 8 ten-year olds trying to have a slumber party. I mean the noises were sickening and the odors worse. I was grossing myself out and having just a terrible terrible experience. All the muscles in my body were now involved and I must have looked like a bear choking on a hairball. It was terrible. That Dumb and Dumber clip had nothing on this.

My episode ends and all I can say is..."What the hell was that?" Many of you don't know that if I am not in the right stance to vomit, then I blow all of the blood vessels in my face and eyes and then I look like an absolute monster. Luckily I had good form for the hurling. This was a relief. I give myself a 10. Yay for me.

That feeling of relief would last all of about 5 seconds.

I look up, wipe my eyes clean of the tears that accompany convulsive muscular tremors beginning at your toenails and ending at your scalp, and I look into the sink, the lucky receptor of the contents of my stomach as well as all corners in my body...pretty sure my pinky tow turned inward so much stuff came out of me. The water that I turned on to "thin out" the...um...leftovers...yeah,not going down the drain. GREAT!

So...let's recap. Explosive diarrhea, projectile vomiting, 8 ten-year olds, next room, friends house, China, middle of the night, thirsty still, and sink clogged. Awesome. Oh...and I use up all the toilet paper on the roll at this point.



A few words are going through my head at this point. You can imagine what they were.



I clean up. I regroup...I stand up firm...even confident...I look at that sink...I look at my arm...I think to myself...my girlfriend is a nurse and she has told grosser stories...I CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN DO THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISS! I ram my hand in to the puke stew and unclog that drain myself!!! I am a MAN, I can FIX things. AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

Well......no luck. I try again and I get some draining going, I work that hand around and sure enough get the drain open and down it all goes. The odor remains...the stink stew is gone. I feel significant about myself...and sick at the thought of what I just did...but oddly enough, prepared for fatherhood and diaper changes.

I clean off the arm...now considered a weapon of mass destruction, and disinfect it. I return to the bathroom every 45 minutes or so for mostly turbo-explosive diarrhea all throughout the night. I get madder and madder and madder. I start shivering uncontrollably at about 4.30am and run a bath. The hot water runs long enough to cover most of me before it turns cold. Still thirsty.

No place to go get Gatorade at this point. I am in someone else's home and all are asleep. I am not waking anyone up unless they hear me and come running to see death happening before their eyes. I mean, c'mon, this could be embarrasing if anyone finds out!

6.45 am rolls around and I am dying...no seriously. I feel terrible. Every bit of water I put in comes right out. So thirsty. I see John is up and I ask him if he feels ok. He and I ate everything the same all day except for at dinner. I have narrowed down the culprit I think. Sorry sucker feels just fine, looks fine, and has energy. I almost hate him a little. A little.

I finally get to sleep about 7am and wake up around 11. One more episode and off I go to bed again till 2pm. I get up, think about lunch...at this point I am starving and thirsty. John goes and gets Gatorade for me, and they just serve me left and right making sure that I am doing ok. We watch the Formula One race from Shanghai and then take naps until dinner.

Jenn is a nurse and I trust her judgment here, she and I both think that all seems ok and we are back on the right track!

And then...