So in case you haven't heard from my mom, I've been sick again. I got sick Sunday night, on the last night of her visit, which is rather unfortunate because my mother takes a certain glee in telling people that I'm sick.
She especially enjoys telling people I have diarrhea. It doesn't matter if I have diarrhea or not, that's what she tells people. And when I say that she tells people, I mean she tells people. It doesn't matter who. People at the bank, relatives in different states, strangers she sees at WalMart, it doesn't matter. I don't understand it, and I don't condone it, but it is something I've come to expect.
This means that when I actually do have a stomach bug, it's about a thousand times worse, because I know my mom is going to tell everyone. I got sick Sunday night. Monday afternoon, I got a text message from Trey asking if I was shitting myself to death or what. Thanks, ma.
See, she was passing through Ft. Worth and stopped in to see the new baby-Trey, and she felt the need to tell him that I was sick. With diarrhea. Because why leave me any dignity, right?
So you might wonder if I'm so humiliated by this, why I'd hop on the old internet as soon as I was able to look at a monitor without puking all over the place and tell you all about it. Frankly, I figure that if I don't tell you, it's only a matter of time before my mom does. It doesn't matter if she knows you or not, or if you live sixteen states away. She will find you and she will tell you. It is her mission.
It has been one of the more humiliating bouts of sickness I've had since childhood. One of those run-to-the-bathroom-to-avoid-a-horrible-accident kind of sickness. Once, I woke up puking. That is not a cool way to wake up, I assure you.
I missed classes on Monday and Tuesday. I went this morning, but was fighting vomit again this afternoon, so missed my night class. This is all bad. I try not to think about it, because worrying about school screws with my stomach on a good day. The way I've been feeling, if I think about school too much, about how behind I'm getting, about how I've missed so many classes this semester, I'll hurl.
Of course, I'll probably hurl anyway.
I should go do that.