Tropical flu season in full force

I’m at my Aunty’s place! First my Uncle took me to the vet to get Troy’s other stitches out. I had to go out the back with the vet this time, only because the stitches had to be taken out of his groin area. I was told to leave the scabs and not to pick at them at all. I made a joke about not being like that with myself, but I had to laugh at whatever comment I could think of to find funny. Considering, I had to check that Troy is still doing ok after he had the most mas’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’s’sive spew up overnight. I found it on the carpet in the morning when I woke up to him having another big vomit. Ok, when I got two plastic bags to pick it all up, there was like more vomit and shit than he could possible hold in him, despite me (1) giving him two cups of Eukanuba last night at around 5 pm, and (2) waking up in the middle of the night to smelling farts, so I made him go outside and left him for a few minutes. I knew he needed a shit somewhere along the line. He went out a few times yesterday but because I didn’t put the spending harness on him because of his stitches in his groin, I hoped that he had gone. It’s not like I have a fucking crystal ball. Nan thought I must have one obviously from why I’d be swearing right at this point. Oh she nearly made me spew up again, after I’d taken panadol! I’m soooooooo lucky I didn’t, because it was after 9 am and I’d spewed up for like three hours, every time I smelled that stinking shit and spew accidentally while I was mopping and cleaning out the carpet. Eeeeeeuuuuuu! Really bad, bad spewing up mind you. Very… Fucking bad shit it was. Eeeeeuuuuuu! So then when Nan and Pop turns up to help me, they expect me to notice when Troy is about to spew, or that he is sick to start with, but did she see the “signs” that she was making me sick, let alone that I was already sick? Eeeeeeeeeuuuuuuu Growlwlwlwlwlwlwlwlwlwlwlwlwl! She is m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’mad. I got up her and Pop and now they’ve disowned me because they think I don’t want their help. All right so I don’t. Because they’re so fucking disgusting and won’t respect my life and who I am whilst they’re helping me? That would be the fucking difference.

Now I feel slightly better. Just really bad heart-burn. Oh and a bit of a nauseated feeling with a bit of a sore stomach along with that. But what do you expect from spewing up as much as you damn can and then still spewing up until you just cannot fucking well spew anymore? M’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’m’mad! cr’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’r’razy! My stomach is iron guts to some things, but very sad, sooky soft to things like animals, children and others in pain and/or spewing up, sick, etc. I thought my reaction today would be a bit less severe than the other week, but ha ha! Unfortunately, the difference was that I had to manage my own care, knowing that I had four hours from the time it started, to when I had to be holding fluid and medicine down, or else… Ah let’s not say two certain words, add three to them. Honestly! If only I’d had the ginger ale I’d probably not have spewed up like a sick alcoholic…

Right now I reckon I’ll be taking some more panadol. I’m feeling that fucking pain again. I’ve just taken some more panadol… Now I should be right. I can take some more when I get soft drink tonight. I’ve decided to put off the codeine, my eye hurts but the panadol is keeping my eye under enough control now that I don’t need the codeine just yet. That’s lucky for me! As for my stomach, it’s not the type of pain that needs codeine to fix. If it was more severe, I’d consider it. But just a bad stomach ache that’ll be gone in a day won’t validate that need if you ask me. It is a bad pain, but not a permanent or chronic one. That horrible vomiting thing with it wasn’t refractory either thank fucken Go’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’o’od! No diarrhoea either, yea! Just moderate dehydration because of spewing up really bad, but since it stopped on its own, no need for tampering with nature. Actually, maybe panadol is tampering with nature just a little, but not majorly stepping in to reverse something which is meant to go away automatically. Very clearly violent spewing up doesn’t always mean refractory shit, so I’m happy about that one bit of it. At least I was able to hold down one piece of toast with peanut butter and a glass of water earlier! I think my dehydration is more like mild now. I still have a way to go, but I should be back to normal with my fluid levels tonight, better in the stomach tomorrow. I’d want to be, I’m going out for breaky and I don’t want to spoil it for me and everyone else.

I have to be getting better because I managed to put another glass of water down my throat. Good, it means the dehydration/spewing up issues are settled down a lot! Good! I can’t say it enough. Very good! I know that doctors would say if you can’t hold water down for twenty-four hours and food down for three days, then seek medical attention. But life is of the essence, and I believe in Golden Hour treatment and recovery. And because um, I don’t want to be taken somewhere, knowing my delirium two weeks ago. None of this drag-out-the-symptoms crap unless you know exactly why this idea is so. Fix the problem before it turns into a fire, and it’ll stay as a spark and go out fast. Otherwise, put up with shit loads of other stuff while getting fixed, when really it’s not necessary. Um, that’d be Nan controlling the situation if you want to drag things out. Nan would do that because if I get better too fast, life would be too boring! Um, Nan wouldn’t be seeing the “signs”, would she? Plus my motto is “better to be boring than fucking well dead!” The panadol is obviously working because I’m still writing and I’m making some good jokes now. Maybe that’s a side effect for me: Take the panadol, start the joking around! That’s good, again it’s better for one to be happy than sad, better for one to laugh than to cry, and better for one to be treated while a problem is small, rather than to wait till it’s too late.

We’re going out for dinner tonight. To the Esplanade in fact. I’m gonna have fish and chips, hoping they’re a good feed for a sick gut, and my old favourite bottle of coke! It’s one of those drinks I can’t not have. I must have it, even if I was dying of a heart attack. I’m gonna be fucking stoked at myself to feel real food flushing through the digestive system again. Fuuuuuuuucking stoked! Toast is food, but it’s such a light snack that once eaten, the sensation of something in the stomach dissipates in like half an hour. To feel something really digesting for four hours, without feeling like I’ll chuck everywhere, will be something I’ve been waiting for all day, because I want to be healthy enough to stay at home and my Aunty’s tomorrow. Get my hint? I feel really suspended as to how I’ll find Troy when I get back with the mob tonight. I’ll feed him before I go, but if he’s all right when I get back here, things will be rosy sweet. If not, um… Look out! God damn pl’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’l’lease be good news with Troy tonight! Seriously he should be right. He has to be, and I have to be all right too. Since we’re apparently not getting any worse at this time, I won’t put my mind into an anxious spin until later, when we get back from tea.


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