Waking up nauseous on Thursday was an a giant cloud of evil foreboding. I made it to work spew-free but when my first glass of water came back to visit it was the start of the slippery bile-filled slide downhill. And thanks lovely people for the "ooooh you might be pregnant" well wishes - if every chick that felt nauseous was actually pregnant, there would be whole lot more rabid pregnant dole-bludging pot-bellied "mothers" about the place.

Thanks to great star alignment or whatever powers that be, I got a doctor's appointment that morning. Surprisingly I actually had a doctor take me seriously this particular appointment. I was actually subjected serious questions and to having my entire abdominal region compressed and prodded.. and so I learnt most of my internal organs were intact and not swollen or ruptured. But my stomach and colon (read: large intestine) felt "harder" than they were meant to and given my pathetic yelps of pain, were obviously more tender than they were meant to be. I was told to expect actual throwing up, diarrhoea, serious gas and lovelies that go along with the terrible three - fracking awesome weekend ahead!

Back to work I went thinking I was iron stomach girl and given I hadn't eaten anything, all would be not too bad - I could handle the nausea, as long as I didn't actually follow through. About 90 minutes into my self-delusion, serious tummy twisting (read: pain) and grumpiness ensued and I realized I should go home and try to die in bed. I made it to the carpark and swore some serous stars came out to play - I'd never been dizzy like that before. BAD Trippy! So driving was not an option. Poor Timmy had to come get me and his mum even brought me a bucket!

I don't remember much more of Thursday other than making it home and spatters of staggering to the bathroom and doing that thing that people with bad gastroenteritis do.. okay variety of things. I think Tim came home and made me vegemite soldiers and gastrolyte somewhere in the haze of it all.

Yesterday was not much better. I woke only to realize I was late for work, missed a morning meeting and was in no state to move from my pathetic reclining position. Rung work, got the urgent shite (yeah hahahaha funny. not bloody funny!) sorted - THANKS MF and M2! And drifted back in and out of pain-hazed sleep. I vaguely remember crying because it bloody hurt so much. Yeah bloody glamour-queen I was, hugging Theo - my giant giraffe and crying.

So in two whole days I've eaten 4 wheat crackers, two vegemite soldiers and half a bowl of plain, watered-down rice porridge. And I was supposed to go go-karting with work this morning.

This video really sets the mooooood:

Done feeling sorry for myself now!

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