::: Golden Week, Part Seven...unlucky friggin part 7

I get up from the couch to have one more go at it. I figure...it’s time, and I am sure it is ready to rumble.

The Ring? The Porcelain God. The Contenders? My Stomach and My Mouth. Ding...friggin ding you sorry $%*@#$%!


The bell tolls...nothing. Nothing at all.


And then...

I begin to shiver. Not shiver...shake...I mean like I am doing the truffle shuffle...Goonies fans, Hello?...you out there? I see that hand...yeah, there you are! Where was I? Oh, yeah.

My chin is shaking violently...I cannot even talk normally...my knees are shaking, everything is shaking...I have zero control over myself...I am getting a little freaked out. My tongue feels like it is swelling and my throat is closing up. I do the only thing I know to do...run a hot bath...and look at John. I tell him what I am going to do hoping that he gets freaked out by the sight that I am...I mean I look like I have Parkinson's (not kidding) and I am now a little scared that I am heading for convulsions or siezureville. Or...even worse...the Chinese version of 911...119. Who said they were original? By now, I have lost all color and can see the veins in my hands like I was Mr. Slim Goodbody. All I can think in my head is...warm up the Ambulance! Call Dr. McPukey...cause here I come...better yet...I think to myself...

"HERE I COME JESUS...I AM COMING HOME!!! THIS IS IT...WHERE'S THE LIGHT? WHERE'S THE PART WHERE I CLAIM JESUS AS MY SAVIOR? WHERE'S THAT GATE? IS THERE REALLY A GATE?"

Then I hear John. He says hold off on the bath and gets Jennifer. She's a sight for sore eyes. He and I looked like a bunch of people who just got asked a question they had no idea how to answer...but tried anyway. I think they are called Democrats. Sorry Keith. Just kidding. Had to.

She says no on the bath and says get into bed. She and John put about 6 blankets on me and then add a hot water bottle. John heads for more Gatorade at the shop below the apartment and by now my back is killing me. I can't lay down on my back. I have to switch to my side. Too much pain. I have never felt like this...nor have I ever felt so helpless. John gets back with the Gatorade and I take a swig. I look over and while shivering I try to get intelligible words out and say, "I am almost about ready to go to a hospital Jenn."

She replies with a comforting thought. "Oh no, were not going there buddy...not unless you are dying. You don't want that experience."

Helpless feeling gets increasingly present.

John adds a bucket to the bed I am in...just in case. I smirk. I think to myself. Awww...they are worried. C'mon...I'm good in that arena. My tongue feels huge, and my throat dry. I feel a little nauseous but no where near the firehose puker that I was.

Then...I burp.

Oh crap. Yeah...I can make it to the bathroom...no prob- uh oh. Hand over mouth. Burp again. Uh-oh...this ones not stopping...nope not just a burp. Oh, hello puke all over the wall...and the door...and the floor. Who knew puke could get through a hand that fast and spray that far? That's lovely. Oh...we're not done. Welp...yup...here comes some more. The target is now is sight. I see the sink..oh great...remember the sink. BAM! I hit it. I get in position...perfect form again. I am getting good at this!

I look up. No blood vessels burst. Tears in my eyes. Most of the stomach stew is in the sink. Then I hear it. I hear the words...and I hear them in slow motion. It's Jenn's voice. I hear her say to John..."Call Kirk...have him bring their car. It's time to go to the hospital."

Oh great. Didn't she say we weren't going there unless...um...I...uh...um...was...um...dying? Great. I am dying. I am dying. Dying in China. Dying. Great. Well maybe they'll just wheel me down on a gurney to that incinerator. Cool. WAIT!

I feel better. Really I do. Then, my ride arrives...