Warning: Graphic content. Parents and the faint of heart strongly cautioned.
Ok, it was one thing when the parsley tried to kill me, but now I think the evil caramel sauce found me. It was in disguise as a stomach virus bent on destroying me from the inside out. With the stomach virus (aka evil caramel sauce) attacking in all directions, my body's only defense was to evacuate the gastro-intestinal system from any and every orifice available. And it did. Several times, in fact. Between the hours of 3:30 and 6:40 am, my body's insides evacuated every last particle from said system. For the last run-through there was nothing even left to evacuate, but some commander down there just wanted to be certain. (By the way, if you know beforehand what's going to happen to you, don't let blueberries be the last thing you eat. It was very pretty, but a little scary too.)
Ok, it was one thing when the parsley tried to kill me, but now I think the evil caramel sauce found me. It was in disguise as a stomach virus bent on destroying me from the inside out. With the stomach virus (aka evil caramel sauce) attacking in all directions, my body's only defense was to evacuate the gastro-intestinal system from any and every orifice available. And it did. Several times, in fact. Between the hours of 3:30 and 6:40 am, my body's insides evacuated every last particle from said system. For the last run-through there was nothing even left to evacuate, but some commander down there just wanted to be certain. (By the way, if you know beforehand what's going to happen to you, don't let blueberries be the last thing you eat. It was very pretty, but a little scary too.)
My favorite part was at 5:30 when I was in the middle of one of these evacuations, I heard Linus calling one of my seminary students, as per my request, to get the word out that there would be no class. I heard in a deep and a little scary Linus-just-woke-up voice, "Sarah [last name]." Then there was a pause before he continued, and I was grateful that she would recognize my phone number because otherwise I think she would have been scared out of her wits at such a voice on her cell phone at 5:30 am. She probably was anyway. But then he continued, "Sister [last name] wanted me to let you know..."
I couldn't sleep between each evacuation. And somehow I only had one can of lemon-lime soda left, which are supposed to be used medicinally for upset stummies. (I take full responsibility for that circumstance.) So when that can became the evacuated, all I had was water. Poor me. Helped with hydration a little, but unfortunately seemed to add to my body's desire to evacuate.
Linus probably got just as much sleep as I did. Less even, considering I don't think he got to bed until right before evacuation number one. He was the first and best angel of my day. I'm just sorry we can't go out to dinner tonight like we had planned (since the parsley got the better of me on Friday and Saturday, we still haven't made it out for Valetine's Day).
Mine was the sleep of the dead between 7 and 10:30 am. Well, the dead in purgatory, that is. Everything started hurting at that point, but I was exhausted enough not to be able to open my eyes. And then I woke up as Linus was getting ready to leave for the day. Of course it was a day in which I had lots of things planned for myself, so I had to start phoning everyone to cancel. (Babysitting, violin lessons. I was even going to go visiting teaching.)
One of the things I kept praying for between evacuations was that someone would come be a ministering angel to me during the day. Those were my words. One person who called me for something completely unrelated, upon hearing of my sickly state, offered to bring gatorade. But she lives far, so I said if I got desperate I would call her back. And while I was finishing that conversation, another friend, who knew I was sick because her daughter is in my Seminary class, left a message asking if there was anything she could bring me (she was at the store at the time). So I called her back and took her up on the offer (I needed to cancel her daughter's violin lesson too). And before she got here with the sprite and gatorade, I was canceling another violin lesson and the mother offered to go get me sprite and gatorade. Which at that point I didn't need, because my other friend was on her way. So I was showered with angels today. Not to mention the ones who stayed with me through the night.
But I woke up at 2:30 pm, feeling like my hips and head are going to explode. So I called another angel, my daddy, and asked him how much and what I could take. So now I'm waiting for my damaged insides to distribute that.
And now for something completely different. One thing I started thinking about during my series of evacuations was Bislama. Bislama is a language spoken on the island of Vanuatu. It is one of Linus's favorite languages. It makes one smile, it's so cute. For example, The Book of Mormon is in Bislama "Buk blong Momon: Wan Narafala Testamen blong Jisas Kraes". Say it out loud, it makes more sense. Notice that "wan narafala" comes from "one nother-fellow" or "another", and "blong" from "belong" meaning "of" or any possessive marker. Nifae's first words in Japta 1 of Fas Buk blong Nifae are "Mi, Nifae, from we mi bin bon long wan gudfala mama mo papa....mi raetem wan histri...." Again, say it outloud, isn't it so cute?
Alright, so why was I thinking about Bislama in the middle of this morning's ordeal. Well, one thing to know about Bislama is that often the "s" of a Bislama word has been changed from the "sh" of the corresponding English word. For example, look at the phrase in Mormon 2:15 that reads in English "and heaped up as dung upon the face of the land." In Bislama this phrase reads "mo oli bin hipimap olgeta olsem sitsit blong anamol long fes blong graon." Yep, in Bislama, there is the wonderful word "sitsit", corresponding to the English word...well, you get the idea (and if you haven't yet, change that "s" to an "sh", but don't say it outloud). Why have more than one word for it, eh? So, Bislama's "sitsit" is often a joke in this house and with my sister and her hubby.
And this morning, well, I was a little preoccupied with sitsit, and I started to think that with these evacuations of sitsit out of my system, maybe I needed a sitsit bucket next to my bed. Yes, that is the phrase I thought, "sitsit bucket". But fortunately, I thought the better of it, and I was able to hold off the little commander of my gastro-intestinal system from calling for battle stations long enough to make it to the flushing sitsit bucket in the bathroom.
Ah Bislama, how would I have found humor in that moment without you.
I couldn't sleep between each evacuation. And somehow I only had one can of lemon-lime soda left, which are supposed to be used medicinally for upset stummies. (I take full responsibility for that circumstance.) So when that can became the evacuated, all I had was water. Poor me. Helped with hydration a little, but unfortunately seemed to add to my body's desire to evacuate.
Linus probably got just as much sleep as I did. Less even, considering I don't think he got to bed until right before evacuation number one. He was the first and best angel of my day. I'm just sorry we can't go out to dinner tonight like we had planned (since the parsley got the better of me on Friday and Saturday, we still haven't made it out for Valetine's Day).
Mine was the sleep of the dead between 7 and 10:30 am. Well, the dead in purgatory, that is. Everything started hurting at that point, but I was exhausted enough not to be able to open my eyes. And then I woke up as Linus was getting ready to leave for the day. Of course it was a day in which I had lots of things planned for myself, so I had to start phoning everyone to cancel. (Babysitting, violin lessons. I was even going to go visiting teaching.)
One of the things I kept praying for between evacuations was that someone would come be a ministering angel to me during the day. Those were my words. One person who called me for something completely unrelated, upon hearing of my sickly state, offered to bring gatorade. But she lives far, so I said if I got desperate I would call her back. And while I was finishing that conversation, another friend, who knew I was sick because her daughter is in my Seminary class, left a message asking if there was anything she could bring me (she was at the store at the time). So I called her back and took her up on the offer (I needed to cancel her daughter's violin lesson too). And before she got here with the sprite and gatorade, I was canceling another violin lesson and the mother offered to go get me sprite and gatorade. Which at that point I didn't need, because my other friend was on her way. So I was showered with angels today. Not to mention the ones who stayed with me through the night.
But I woke up at 2:30 pm, feeling like my hips and head are going to explode. So I called another angel, my daddy, and asked him how much and what I could take. So now I'm waiting for my damaged insides to distribute that.
And now for something completely different. One thing I started thinking about during my series of evacuations was Bislama. Bislama is a language spoken on the island of Vanuatu. It is one of Linus's favorite languages. It makes one smile, it's so cute. For example, The Book of Mormon is in Bislama "Buk blong Momon: Wan Narafala Testamen blong Jisas Kraes". Say it out loud, it makes more sense. Notice that "wan narafala" comes from "one nother-fellow" or "another", and "blong" from "belong" meaning "of" or any possessive marker. Nifae's first words in Japta 1 of Fas Buk blong Nifae are "Mi, Nifae, from we mi bin bon long wan gudfala mama mo papa....mi raetem wan histri...." Again, say it outloud, isn't it so cute?
Alright, so why was I thinking about Bislama in the middle of this morning's ordeal. Well, one thing to know about Bislama is that often the "s" of a Bislama word has been changed from the "sh" of the corresponding English word. For example, look at the phrase in Mormon 2:15 that reads in English "and heaped up as dung upon the face of the land." In Bislama this phrase reads "mo oli bin hipimap olgeta olsem sitsit blong anamol long fes blong graon." Yep, in Bislama, there is the wonderful word "sitsit", corresponding to the English word...well, you get the idea (and if you haven't yet, change that "s" to an "sh", but don't say it outloud). Why have more than one word for it, eh? So, Bislama's "sitsit" is often a joke in this house and with my sister and her hubby.
And this morning, well, I was a little preoccupied with sitsit, and I started to think that with these evacuations of sitsit out of my system, maybe I needed a sitsit bucket next to my bed. Yes, that is the phrase I thought, "sitsit bucket". But fortunately, I thought the better of it, and I was able to hold off the little commander of my gastro-intestinal system from calling for battle stations long enough to make it to the flushing sitsit bucket in the bathroom.
Ah Bislama, how would I have found humor in that moment without you.
6 comments:
I hope you feel better but your ordeals do make for a humorous reading!
Nicely done. I presume the ibuprofen didn't kill you. I will have to remember sitsit..Papa
After two hours of talking about death in German, "the flushing sitsit bucket in the bathroom" just made my day so much better.
Interesting language that is both descriptive and charming. Hope today is a better day for us all. Mutti
You poor thing. That is just wrong. I hope that you feel better fast! I am so glad that you had people to help you.
I hope your generals and majors are disappointed. For some reason, the XTC song came to mind as I read your post: "Generals and majors always/Seem so unhappy less they got a war." Good song.
Also, Bislama reminds me of an aboriginal language an Aussie professor from our common alma mater (Linus may have known him) shared with us in class--entertaining to read and hear.
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