THE BITCH IS BACK
Better to Stay Home in Bed With a Book
Last week I went home to spend time with my husband, Rob, before my older son’s next court date and promptly got sick. Flat on my back, gastroenteritis, take Amoxicillin sick. No idea where I picked up the bacteria that felled me; it could have been from something I ate or touched, it could have been from drinking contaminated water. I could even have picked it up on the plane. Who knows? All I know is it wiped me out and, when I wasn’t awake and suffering and the biggest bitch ever born, I was asleep and blissfully unaware of my painful stomach and the evil headache that accompanied the whole thing.
Making matters worse is that we had family here at the same time. Rob’s sister Kathy came to visit. I was absolutely, positively, 100% totally looking forward to seeing her. I even did something practically unprecedented: I took Wednesday off from work so I could go on an airboat ride with her and Rob and do whatever else they had planned. You know, like to go to lunch. Traipse around Everglades City. Relax, for Pete’s sake.
But on Wednesday morning while I was out doing my best to get to 10,000 steps before we got on the road, I felt it. The corkscrewing, stabbing pain in my stomach. I soldiered on, more afraid of the scale than of passing out on somebody’s lawn, but by the time I got home I was…
