Update
I haven't died. Rumors of my demise were not-so greatly exaggerated.
Though I woke up yesterday feeling like my head was about to explode. Cripes. It made me sick to my stomach, which really says something. Nothing puts me off food. I'm stressed? I eat. I'm happy? I eat. I'm tired and can't sleep yet? I eat. I am really really stressed? I eat lots.
The only thing that makes me vomit is (excessive amounts of alcohol) a fever. And I checked several times. No fever. If anything, my temperature is like 97.7. Lower than the expected 98.6. Either way, I found some good drugs and woke up feeling sleepy but not like I'd attempted to break through a wall with my head. Happy days. But the toes are cold!