Thirty-six hours of reprieve from the nausea that has plagued me continuously since the beginning of August was all I got…yes, I keep track.  When you even feel nauseous in your dreams, you keep track.

For nearly two days, I’d been floating along, spry and patient with a smile and suddenly, instantly, like a megadose of bile had been injected: I felt like Puke-a-saurus Rex–probably 7 on a scale of 1 to Puke.  No longer spry, I tried to lumber about but was only able to hunch over and rest my head on my desk.  Then came the hives, quick pounding heart, irrational weepiness, etc.

My symptom bursts are no respecter of time nor place…it was Parent Teacher Conferences and I felt so nasty I couldn’t even cross the room to turn off the lights to give the appearance the room was empty.  I was grateful my room was air conditioned, other rooms aren’t and the temperatures without students were in the 90s (due to security, all doors must remained closed).  

About an hour later it all subsided…and life seemed almost optimistic…for a while.