This stomach thing has become a monster. I continue to have a swollen feeling and pain, and now my stomach has opened the trap door. It's endless. I can't sleep, and my breakfast is a large Gatorade. The Pepto-Bismol helped a tad, but now I worry that it did more harm; maybe I want the symptoms to run their course instead of being muffled by pink sludge. I woke to find a cup of mint tea in my bathroom from Your Sister, who begins her exam week with a shell of a husband.
If this lasts another few days, I'm finding a doctor. It doesn't feel like my old ulcer acting up, and this area doesn't carry Swazi chicken innards. If it's a virus, it's horrible.
Picture of the Day
Artist's approximation of the disaster.