I know you’re shocked at what appears to be my brevity, but you’ll soon understand why.
I awoke in the middle of the night and immediately thought, “Uh oh, this isn’t good.” I never wake up at night and when I do, bad things usually follow. Despite all the extra blankets I had piled on me, my skin was crawling with that particular tinglyness that comes with being sick. I tried to ignore it and continue sleeping, but it the morning, it wasn’t any better.
In fact, it was worse. My head was foggy and I felt unable to form clear thoughts. But the cleaning lady was going to come in, so I had to get up. With anvils for arms and legs, I managed to pull myself out of bed and “get ready.”
I popped into a café on my street for some tea, but even that didn’t warm me up. I felt like all kinds of non-specific awful. My head hurt, but I didn’t have a headache, my stomach was bothering me, but I wasn’t nauseous, I was cold, but didn’t have chills…augh.
When I got back to my bed, I realized just how much energy it had taken me to be “out and about.” I was completely drained. I spent the rest of the day in fitful sleep, with delusional waking moments. At around 7, since I was feeling NO better and didn’t know what else to do, I decided to go try and throw up. If you know anything about me, then you know how much I abhor throwing up. I had a constant pain I my stomach, but didn’t really feel queasy per se. Nevertheless, I didn’t have any other ideas – and I was getting desperate.
But alas, it was a no-go. I fell back on my bed and passed out for another 3 hours. The next time I woke up I thought, “Enough of this crap. I’m gonna go throw up and I’m gonna feel better, dangit!” So I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste in faith that I would barf and headed back down the hall.
(Warning: we’re about to get personal.) This time I had success. And I mean real success. My stomach was wringing itself out like sopping wet laundry. I nearly cried I felt so much better after I was done. In fact I was a little giddy. But that was also about the time my head started pounding like I was having a lobotomy, so I just brushed my teeth (twice) and drunkenly walked back to my bed. One advil and 12 hours later, I woke up feeling MUCH better.
The next day I was pretty weak and a little weary about my stomach so I laid very low and looked after a few practical details (arrangements for Sorrento, calling the Assisi hostel back about my sweater, etc.) I was bummed that I had foregone my third day of free-ness with the Roma Pass, but not much to be done about it. Sick happens.
I do want to tell you about my dinner though (not because I threw it up or anything, it’s just a good story – see next post).
The next day I wrote and mailed my postcards (which I traveled all the way back to Vatican City to do and was going to finally take my pictures of St. Peter’s…but realized I had left my camera at the hostel – d’oh!), did a load of laundry, and boarded the train for Sorrento. It’s 4 hour travel time from Rome to Sorrento, so that was pretty much the whole day.
I awoke in the middle of the night and immediately thought, “Uh oh, this isn’t good.” I never wake up at night and when I do, bad things usually follow. Despite all the extra blankets I had piled on me, my skin was crawling with that particular tinglyness that comes with being sick. I tried to ignore it and continue sleeping, but it the morning, it wasn’t any better.
In fact, it was worse. My head was foggy and I felt unable to form clear thoughts. But the cleaning lady was going to come in, so I had to get up. With anvils for arms and legs, I managed to pull myself out of bed and “get ready.”
I popped into a café on my street for some tea, but even that didn’t warm me up. I felt like all kinds of non-specific awful. My head hurt, but I didn’t have a headache, my stomach was bothering me, but I wasn’t nauseous, I was cold, but didn’t have chills…augh.When I got back to my bed, I realized just how much energy it had taken me to be “out and about.” I was completely drained. I spent the rest of the day in fitful sleep, with delusional waking moments. At around 7, since I was feeling NO better and didn’t know what else to do, I decided to go try and throw up. If you know anything about me, then you know how much I abhor throwing up. I had a constant pain I my stomach, but didn’t really feel queasy per se. Nevertheless, I didn’t have any other ideas – and I was getting desperate.
But alas, it was a no-go. I fell back on my bed and passed out for another 3 hours. The next time I woke up I thought, “Enough of this crap. I’m gonna go throw up and I’m gonna feel better, dangit!” So I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste in faith that I would barf and headed back down the hall.
(Warning: we’re about to get personal.) This time I had success. And I mean real success. My stomach was wringing itself out like sopping wet laundry. I nearly cried I felt so much better after I was done. In fact I was a little giddy. But that was also about the time my head started pounding like I was having a lobotomy, so I just brushed my teeth (twice) and drunkenly walked back to my bed. One advil and 12 hours later, I woke up feeling MUCH better.
The next day I was pretty weak and a little weary about my stomach so I laid very low and looked after a few practical details (arrangements for Sorrento, calling the Assisi hostel back about my sweater, etc.) I was bummed that I had foregone my third day of free-ness with the Roma Pass, but not much to be done about it. Sick happens.
I do want to tell you about my dinner though (not because I threw it up or anything, it’s just a good story – see next post).
The next day I wrote and mailed my postcards (which I traveled all the way back to Vatican City to do and was going to finally take my pictures of St. Peter’s…but realized I had left my camera at the hostel – d’oh!), did a load of laundry, and boarded the train for Sorrento. It’s 4 hour travel time from Rome to Sorrento, so that was pretty much the whole day.
1 comment:
Oh Poux! I'm so sorry you get sick and away from home too! But at least it was only a day! I actually read the first line of your next post before I read this one and I knew you got sick. Maybe your stomach was rejecting the ricotta panna cotta, it clearly prefers the original. :)
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