feuervogel

So yesterday morning I woke up around 3 with some abdominal cramping that left me running to the toilet regularly. I sent Ben to the place of Evil to get me some imodium (loperamide). It sort of helped.

So, like a dumbass, I ate normal food all day and thought in the mid-afternoon, after I got my car back, that some yogurt might help, with the friendly bacteria. Ha. My guts started making even more fun noises.

So I kept drinking water and went to bed, only to wake up at 4 am for another series of trips to the toilet. This time I had the joy of vomiting.

So I called my doctor and left them a message. They called back and said eat BRAT and drink flat coke or ginger ale. And by no means should I think about driving to Boston today.

Lucky for me Ben had already planned to take today off to do some car stuff and watch the Germany game, so he picked me up some saltines and a bottle of Coke and is currently out running other errands.

I doubt I'll be up for driving this afternoon (plan *was* to leave around 5:30 and head to my sister's to sleep & break the 13-hour drive), but I could be surprised. I almost feel like showering, though it takes me 10 minutes to eat a saltine.

Problem is, I'm supposed to be going with somebody else. The plan for now is for her to come here, then see how I feel in the morning. This plan is subject to change.

I really want to go to this con. I can get a flight up tomorrow at noon and back Monday morning (if a friend in Boston can let me stay there Sunday night) for 32k frequent flyer miles. Going Friday morning costs 40k, which is just more than I have. I just hate flying, you know? And I don't want to be on an airplane with GI issues (which, thankfully, seem to be resolving, though I'm still tired.)

I wonder if I drove to my sister's tonight and didn't feel up to going on if J would be able to fly from DC to Boston & back to Charlotte. It's a little cheaper, and there's also the Amtrak option (even with flying back to Charlotte 1-way, it's cheaper than flying RT from here.)

Argh, I hate when my plans go all pear-shaped.