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Stomach Bug

Had a fun night the other night…not sure if it was the calamari I had for lunch or the stomach bug that someone accurately referred to on Facebook as a trip over the rainbow bridge to greet their pets in heaven, but it hit me hard. I spent the night in what I can best describe as an upright fetal position, making promises to God to never have calamari again if he could just let me live to see another day. My dog Cooper was legit scared. When my stomach first made a weird, deep gurgling sound before the gates of hades were opened, my dog looked at me like I was Sigourney Weaver in Alien as I googled, “What does a bad reaction to seafood look and sound like?” I was specifically looking for life expectancy. I couldn’t sit upright and the room was starting to dim, so I pushed on my abdomen to self-diagnose if my appendix was giving its two weeks’ notice or not. This is the downside to being an empty nester and your husband is two and half hours away, conveniently locked in an escape room with his co-workers. Hopefully he was having more fun than me; hard to say. If he hadn’t been talking about this trip for weeks, I would’ve thought being locked in an escape room after work was a perfect excuse to not be able to help me out; I would never have believed him. I would’ve said, “Yeah right! Next time you’re sick I’ll be mysteriously locked in the King of Prussia Mall 3 hours away.” My sweet dog who felt really bad for me had so much nervous energy checking on me that if he had any sense of direction whatsoever, I would’ve hooked a sled to him and had him drag me to the e.r. for a shot to stop the madness and allow him to feel useful. Although I don’t know why he thought having his dog food breath two inches from my face as he sniffed and licked me was helpful, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was making it much worse. Every time I tried to open my eyes, I noticed his eyes were about 2 inches away, just staring with a look of panic subliminally saying to me I hope you pull through because you’re the only one left in the house who knows how to access my next meal. He was in full Lassie mode trying to save the day. At one point he sat and started whiney crying while looking up at the ceiling. I said, “Oh no buddy, are the angels coming for me? Bark if you see Jesus!” Not sure what he was seeing but that also was not helpful and making me nervous. I didn’t know whether to call an ambulance or a priest for an exorcism and last rites with lots of much needed holy water. If that was the stomach bug, I wish you well everyone! Get your affairs in order and update your will, it’s a doozy!

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