As I am typing this, I am recovering from a bout of food poisoning.
Yes. Hmph. It seems like the Universe is really throwing rotten eggs at me. Well in that case, I shake my fist at you and say that I HATE YOU TOO, ARSEHOLE!
Let’s just say that I am super damn suay.
I went for high-tea with my friends even though I have not much of an appetite since the days of shooting up with hormones. I barely ate. We said our goodbyes and then the next thing I knew, my tummy felt strange. Went to the ladies to do the heave ho and it was CROWDED. Went to another loo and dry heaved. Cabbed home immediately and dashed to my toilet. Out comes the watermelon eaten right before we had left. Gross but phew! I mean, I thought it was blood!
We went to the doctor’s. Was given the number 94 and I tried desperately not to slump into the chair in pain. Must always look Fabulously Gorgeous. Thank goodness for yoga and all that deep breathing exercises. Finally, patient 93 walked out of the room and it was my turn. Yay!
Or not?! The doctor left to go somewhere else. Okay, breathe, there’s another doctor. WTF, he is leaving too? To pee? Who goes to pee while the patient was dying in her seat? Okay, he’s back and WTF! Number 95 is called into the room?
I slumped into my chair.
FINALLY. My number was called. After hearing my agonised words (I could barely speak), Doctor I-Left-While-Patient-Almost-Died-Of-Stomach-Pains diagnosed that I had FOOD POISONING. Poked around my tummy (OW OW OWWWW), none too gently, might I add. And when I mentioned that I just did my IVF the week before, he had to consult his Holy Book of Medicines to find something suitable for me. At that point, I was ready to explode and told him to just prescribe something that could take the damned pain away NAO. He thought I was funny and laughed.
And now here I am. Pissed off as hell that I ate so LITTLE and I puked SO MUCH. What the heck.
Yannisms 