I awoke this
morning a few minutes before my
alarm was set to go off.
“Well. That’s
odd,” I thought, and promptly rolled back under the covers for a few more minutes of
peace. I didn’t think to wonder why until my
stomach performed the
gastrointestinal equivalent of slapping me upside the head when I turned on my side.
“
Bah.”
I knew exactly what that feeling was and did my best to ignore it. Stupid stomach. I had a
final in half an hour. The least it could do was wait until I was
finished.
I turned again, lying on my back; my stomach officially decided to
give me the finger.
My body jumped up seemingly under its own
volition, as my
knee would have given out if I had knowingly tried to do the same thing. I scanned the room frantically, looking for a garbage bin, a
cardboard box, an empty
container of any sort. Considering the fact that I haven’t taken out the
trash in well over a month, it’s not really a surprise I didn’t have any luck. I walked quickly to the
door and carefully down the
hall. I
gagged about three feet away from the bathroom and prayed to
Bog I would get there on time. I rushed in and headed for an open stall.
I’m not going to try to describe the mechanics of vomiting with a torn
ACL. Suffice to say, it added a whole ‘nother level of discomfort to the
procedure. After I was able to breathe again, I walked over to the sink… and then back to the toilet. This lovely
cycle continued for about ten minutes. I hobbled back to my room after waving away an offer of help from some
poor unfortunate who wandered in to the
lav at the wrong time. I got dressed, gimped my way to my
Intro toexam, vomited again, offered my apologies, and
gimped my way back.
I’m in my room now as I write this,
shirtless and sweating.
Christ, I want to open a window, but that sort of thing is strictly Against the Rules when you’ve got a
fever. The only thing I can hope for now is that everything’ll all
go away when I close my eyes. Yeah. And monkeys will fly out of my ass.