Well hello there. I’ve seem to have managed to survive the 2011 disaster otherwise known as
THE WORST MOST DISGUSTINGLY AWFUL STOMACH FLU EVER.
The jury’s still out on whether the thing that tried to kill me was in fact a flu or poisoning of the food variety, but either way I barely escaped as did my friend who I went to lunch (food poisoned lunch?) with the day before all hell broke loose. Two days of fever, chills (stomach flu chills?), headaches, what I will describe as “bathroom antics,” and last but not least, a 5 hour marathon of puking every twenty minutes. It was so bad that at one point I even considered going to the hospital because I was so exhausted from how badly my stomach was trying to exit my body.
But now that I survived and am back to solids, I’m starting to think that having a flu that literally went on from 2011-2012 wasn’t so bad. Allow me to explain:
- I got to start out the new year 5 lbs. slimmer. Talk about starting my resolutions out right!
- I was pampered. Since I was staying at my parents, my mom brought me Jello, Powerade, Sprite, pillows, and let me camp out on the couch for so long, my neck felt weak like it couldn’t support my big head when I finally arose. It. was. awesome.
- It brought me closer to my husband. Despite my best efforts to exile him, Andrew fell asleep on the couch, only to be awoken by the sound of me with my head in a waste basket- right next to him. New Year’s kiss my ass, that night brought us closer than any drinking holiday could have done.
- I didn’t wake up with a hangover. While I was dying on the 30th, by New Year’s day I was fresh and new, ready to start out 2012 with a clean slate and an empty stomach while the rest of the world was hugging the toilet from their own self constructed demise.
- I didn’t have to find something to wear. One major holiday of the year where I didn’t have to find an outfit or bother bathing? Hell yes.
So while the actual sickness pretty much sucked, it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened on the last day of the year. Next year I urge you to exchange your champagne bucket for a puke one. (Not really.)