On Monday, Trae and I tried a new restaurant in town. I went to bed early that night because my stomach wasn’t feeling well. By 10:30 pm Monday night, I was in the bathroom…I will spare you the details, but let’s say it wasn’t pleasant. By 4:30 am Tuesday morning, I was at the ER. I wasn’t released from the ER until 12:30 pm Tuesday afternoon. It was a very dreadful and severe case of food poisoning.
I have yet to go back to work. I think I have left a permanent body-shaped indent on the couch, and if I eat one more saltine, I will turn into Polly the Parrot.
Trae and I have had sickness and doctor visits in our marriage, but never ER visits. Trae was a trooper through the whole thing. He answered all the nurses’ questions since I was too ill to talk. At one point, Trae had to leave because he had to go to work since there was no one to cover his class. He felt guilty leaving, but at that point, I had been given such a strong nausea medicine, I couldn’t form sentences and was falling asleep quickly. I slept the whole time he was gone and woke up to be told I had to keep one cracker down in order to go home. By the time I successfully ate two crackers (over achiever that I am) and got discharged, Trae was there to pick me up.