Dawn: When men of reason go to bed. ~Ambrose Bierce
Uhhhhg. No sleep; No Peace. I woke up today, got out of bed, looked in the mirror and thought I saw some yellow in my eyes. I'm so paranoid about going jaundice that I always think I'm slightly yellow. Any time I have a slight itchiness to my skin or indigestion I start to freak out and take the steroids I have. I don't reason with myself that I took two hot showers the day before and might have dry skin, or that I ate some pretty wicked Pancho's for lunch and have legitimate acid reflux. I go straight for worst case scenario and pound the pills.
These pills, like most, are a blessing and a curse. They make me hungry which is great, but I seriously never can get full, which is the opposite of great. They also "Jump start my system," as my nurse likes to say, thus creating the blabbering insomniac you see before you. I suppose if I had a night life, this would be fine. I suppose if I had money to travel this would be great too. But I have none of these....so I blog....
Maybe I should clean my damn room. I just don't know where to put all of this shit. I have mounds of junk on my floor with only a closet and a dresser to put it all in. I see myself putting it all on my bed to organize it, filling up my closet and my dresser, then putting it all back on the floor in smaller, neater mounds. What's the point?
I haven't driven my car since Friday. I got a last minute call to play poker and I took it. I had already cancelled plans with family for dinner because my stomach was feeling weird, but I figured that poker couldn't hurt- it wasn't like I was going to eat the cards. I only cancelled for dinner because it was a pricey place we were going, I was being treated, and I didn't want to waste anyone's money when money is so tight for everyone these days. But anyway, I get to the game and there was pizza there, the host bought us all pizza as a way to thank us for coming on such short notice. I had a piece of cheese pizza just to be nice, anyone who knows me knows that if I was really going to eat pizza I would have taken 4 or 5 peices. The first half of the game was going better than OK, it was going phenomenal. I was making good calls and great reads.
I threw down my top pair, face up, post flop because I knew the guy betting had a higher pocket pair. He did. My Queens were dominated by his Kings and I let everyone knew I laid it down, earning me instant praise for "good instinct." I made strong raises at critical moments pushing players out of pots when I had absolutely nothing in my hand. I'm getting better at bluffing and keeping my heart rate down. Unfortunately, about halfway through the game I started to really feel like shit and and started to shiver. I knew this couldn't be good. I make the hard decision to just dump my chips and get out of there. I needed to go home.
So, any decent hand I got I pushed hard, got called.....and WON. Are you kidding me?!? I kept winning. This is awful. I'm two seconds from putting my head down on the table and taking a nap like I'm in first-grade with a tummy ache, and I can't leave the game. Eventually, I get rid of my chips.... but not as soon as I'd hoped.
I hope they've got a bathroom..........cuz I'm gonna use it!
I get in the car and run home. I'm freezing. I hop in the shower and scold myself with hot water to end the Hell of what feels like hypothermia. I just stand there with my eyes closed, cursing life, thinking about the great card game and smooth moves I had made, I was really doing well. All of a sudden I get thin spit; this means it's puke time. I get out of the shower dry off a bit, sit down on the tub and just let loose into the open toilet. At full force, everything came up; I could even see breakfast; it was 11:30 pm.
Over the last few months I've made love to the toilet more times than I'd like to recall, but nothing is worse than barfing naked. No matter what you see in the toilet, no matter how grossed out that its coming out of your nose too, all you can think about is that you are naked and how sad of a sight this must be. This must be the worst thing someone could ever walk in on. The madness ends and I clean up. I gathered up my clothes and head to my bedroom. I knew where my sweat pants where in this mess of a room so I put them on immediately, along with the Tshirt I wore to play poker in and I fell into bed.
I stayed there until today with the exceptions of eating some soup and toast yesterday. Today, however, I felt well enough to try whole foods, and by the end of the day I was back to the regular stuff we have around the house. Yay me, conquered another ailment. Wonderful.......
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