Yay, vacation
So, some of you (at least one of you) know that I am supposed to be spending New Years in upstate New York with friends. Obviously since I'm posting here I'm not in New York. Why, you ask? Why, because I'm sick! And not in the coughing, nose-blowing way, no! In the 'don't get too far from a toilet' way! Yay me!
And this morning, I mentioned to a friend that I was getting a strong image of Serenity, as follows:
"This is going to get pretty interesting."
"Define interesting."
"Oh God oh God, we're all gonna die?"
So everything was going as planned this morning, off to get the rental van so all five of us could ride in the same vehicle. When we were on the way back to the house to grab the remaining people, I mentioned to my friend that I was going to need a toilet, and soon. He inquired as to the urgency of my need. I told him that I wasn't looking forward to the event and left it at that.
When we got to the house I chased someone out of the bathroom and proceeded to curse it. Seriously, it was all liquid and it was still a two-flusher. One of my friends tried to use the facilities about ten minutes later, after liberal dosing with powerful air fresheners, and had to resort to wearing his scarf over his face to even enter the room. I hadn't had stuff coming out of my body like this since the great Iodine Incident of this past February.* So I came out of the bathroom and announced that I would not be making the eight-hour road trip to New York. "Don't be silly," they said, "We can stop if you need to go. We'll bring tp just in case." "You don't understand," said I, "This is not something that can be done in the woods; it would get all over everything. And these are new jeans."
I finally convinced them that I was in no way going to be going. They discussed who would stay behind, I'm honestly not sure why; at any rate, my brother was planning on leaving his car at the house that was our starting-point until we got back on Sunday anyway, so I suggested I take his car back to my parents' house and come back for Sunday. I turned to him, and his reply was a simple "Fuck you." Which honestly didn't suprise me anywhere near as much as you'd expect. Thankfully, a friend said I could use her car and bring it back on Sunday. And that I was welcome to stay there for the weekend if I wanted to anyway, so I wouldn't have to go anywhere. I was pretty determined to return to my folks' house, since they were planning on being gone this weekend anyway I figured I could get some recuperation time where I wouldn't feel too bad about being lazy about it.
So anyway, they all left. I spent some more hellish time in the bathroom and decided to make a run for it. About halfway to my parents' house I realized I didn't have a key to the place and they were both at work. I knew it was likely there was a spare key somewhere, but since they'd been adding on to the house I wasn't too confident. About three-quarters of the way there I realized that it was going to be very important for me to get inside the house as quickly as possible.
So, when I got to the house I had to call my mom, at work, and tell her I had an urgent need to get to the bathroom asap, and I had no key. She laughed. Thanks mom. But she did tell me where the key was, and I promptly cursed another bathroom.
So apparently, yes, all of my stories are going to involve shit. What a theme.
*Iodine Incident: earlier this year I had an abdominal CT scan to diagnose a sharp pain on my left side when breathing (diagnosis: there's nothing wrong with you. It just hurts. Yay medicine). The visual contrast for this scan was 60ml of iodine mixed in the beverage of your choice, 20ml the night before, 20 the morning of, and another 20 just before getting on the scanner. Funny story, as the nurse (tech? whatever) was handing me the last 20ml of iodine, she asked "Are you allergic to shellfish?" I just said 'no,' but I was thinking "No, and you're damn lucky I know why you're asking me that."
Science time! Shellfish allergies are actually an allergy to iodine. So if I had had a shellfish allergy and not known that it was actually an iodine allergy, I probably would have been dead long before she had asked. Science: it can save your life.
At any rate, this much iodine is apparently completely non-digestible (something else I would have liked to know before discovering this fact on my own, at work, later that day). Which means, to be blunt, thats a whole lotta liquid in your GI tract that you can't do anything with but purge. The sphincter opens, and it sounds like a waterfall. I left work soon after learning this. So once more, I learn so you don't have to. If you can ever avoid drinking mass quantities of iodine, I reccomend doing so. It tastes like spoiled...well, nasty, anyway. It smells like vanilla. But boy, it dont taste like vanilla!
So, I figure what the hell, I'll recover over today and maybe tomorrow and I'll get some alone time, since the folks would be out of town for the weekend. But no, now, they're just going to go out of town during the day tomorrow! Because, as mom says, "This is a bonus! I don't get to spend that much time with you!" I've tried to explain how me being sick is not to ever be considered a bonus for anyone but my enemies, or at least how I don't feel all that social while I'm having to use the facilities every hour and a half or so, but the mom-hearing-shield is firmly in place. "My son is here!" That's what she hears.
I have never in my life wanted so much to be in North Carolina.
What I've learned today: Oatmeal is as disgusting as I thought it would be. Even the softest toilet paper can feel not-soft in time. Joss Whedon does fair commentaries for his movies. And my parents are getting better at driving me crazy. I don't know if that's a reflection of them or me, to be honest.
And this morning, I mentioned to a friend that I was getting a strong image of Serenity, as follows:
"This is going to get pretty interesting."
"Define interesting."
"Oh God oh God, we're all gonna die?"
So everything was going as planned this morning, off to get the rental van so all five of us could ride in the same vehicle. When we were on the way back to the house to grab the remaining people, I mentioned to my friend that I was going to need a toilet, and soon. He inquired as to the urgency of my need. I told him that I wasn't looking forward to the event and left it at that.
When we got to the house I chased someone out of the bathroom and proceeded to curse it. Seriously, it was all liquid and it was still a two-flusher. One of my friends tried to use the facilities about ten minutes later, after liberal dosing with powerful air fresheners, and had to resort to wearing his scarf over his face to even enter the room. I hadn't had stuff coming out of my body like this since the great Iodine Incident of this past February.* So I came out of the bathroom and announced that I would not be making the eight-hour road trip to New York. "Don't be silly," they said, "We can stop if you need to go. We'll bring tp just in case." "You don't understand," said I, "This is not something that can be done in the woods; it would get all over everything. And these are new jeans."
I finally convinced them that I was in no way going to be going. They discussed who would stay behind, I'm honestly not sure why; at any rate, my brother was planning on leaving his car at the house that was our starting-point until we got back on Sunday anyway, so I suggested I take his car back to my parents' house and come back for Sunday. I turned to him, and his reply was a simple "Fuck you." Which honestly didn't suprise me anywhere near as much as you'd expect. Thankfully, a friend said I could use her car and bring it back on Sunday. And that I was welcome to stay there for the weekend if I wanted to anyway, so I wouldn't have to go anywhere. I was pretty determined to return to my folks' house, since they were planning on being gone this weekend anyway I figured I could get some recuperation time where I wouldn't feel too bad about being lazy about it.
So anyway, they all left. I spent some more hellish time in the bathroom and decided to make a run for it. About halfway to my parents' house I realized I didn't have a key to the place and they were both at work. I knew it was likely there was a spare key somewhere, but since they'd been adding on to the house I wasn't too confident. About three-quarters of the way there I realized that it was going to be very important for me to get inside the house as quickly as possible.
So, when I got to the house I had to call my mom, at work, and tell her I had an urgent need to get to the bathroom asap, and I had no key. She laughed. Thanks mom. But she did tell me where the key was, and I promptly cursed another bathroom.
So apparently, yes, all of my stories are going to involve shit. What a theme.
*Iodine Incident: earlier this year I had an abdominal CT scan to diagnose a sharp pain on my left side when breathing (diagnosis: there's nothing wrong with you. It just hurts. Yay medicine). The visual contrast for this scan was 60ml of iodine mixed in the beverage of your choice, 20ml the night before, 20 the morning of, and another 20 just before getting on the scanner. Funny story, as the nurse (tech? whatever) was handing me the last 20ml of iodine, she asked "Are you allergic to shellfish?" I just said 'no,' but I was thinking "No, and you're damn lucky I know why you're asking me that."
Science time! Shellfish allergies are actually an allergy to iodine. So if I had had a shellfish allergy and not known that it was actually an iodine allergy, I probably would have been dead long before she had asked. Science: it can save your life.
At any rate, this much iodine is apparently completely non-digestible (something else I would have liked to know before discovering this fact on my own, at work, later that day). Which means, to be blunt, thats a whole lotta liquid in your GI tract that you can't do anything with but purge. The sphincter opens, and it sounds like a waterfall. I left work soon after learning this. So once more, I learn so you don't have to. If you can ever avoid drinking mass quantities of iodine, I reccomend doing so. It tastes like spoiled...well, nasty, anyway. It smells like vanilla. But boy, it dont taste like vanilla!
So, I figure what the hell, I'll recover over today and maybe tomorrow and I'll get some alone time, since the folks would be out of town for the weekend. But no, now, they're just going to go out of town during the day tomorrow! Because, as mom says, "This is a bonus! I don't get to spend that much time with you!" I've tried to explain how me being sick is not to ever be considered a bonus for anyone but my enemies, or at least how I don't feel all that social while I'm having to use the facilities every hour and a half or so, but the mom-hearing-shield is firmly in place. "My son is here!" That's what she hears.
I have never in my life wanted so much to be in North Carolina.
What I've learned today: Oatmeal is as disgusting as I thought it would be. Even the softest toilet paper can feel not-soft in time. Joss Whedon does fair commentaries for his movies. And my parents are getting better at driving me crazy. I don't know if that's a reflection of them or me, to be honest.