Adventures In Vicissitude or The Return of The Abject Wit

"I have a cock, so I'm betting that's not it."- T.O. Hob

I'm a very sick person.

Pause for a second and contemplate the double meaning of that sentence.

Now move on. I went to sleep on Sunday night with an inexplicably broken heart...and woke up Monday morning to a sink full of blood (pictures respectfully withheld). It's funny how you can still recognize your own blood once it's no longer part of you, like it somehow screams out about the debt you owe it (I gave you life...). My nose hadn't been bleeding, I had no open wounds. In fact I felt pretty damn ok. So where did all this blood come from?

And then I hurled.

Most people would find that odd. Not me. See I puke a lot (look at that learning new and disgusting things about me every day). I try and explain it to people every once and awhile, but they never get it. "I get sick when I eat tomato sauce." No, that's not it. "I get sick on rollercoasters." I don't fit on rollercoasters, but that's not it either. "I got sick a lot when I was pregnant." I defer to Hob on that witty retort.

But this was different. Not my usual vomitiness (vomitocity? vomitility? vominosity?).

It was about six hours in when I realized this was a completely new sick feeling and it had a new side effect. I couldn't eat.

Now this might not seem odd to some of you. But it is to me. Let's review. I'm fat. Not chubby, not porky, not big boned. I'm fat (and ugly to boot, but that's besides the point). And contrary to popular belief fat people don't always eat a lot, but we do eat often and very poorly. So when I passed on lunch Monday, and realized it had been 24 hours since I last ate I was a little surprised. When Monday night came and went without any food I was getting a little nervous, I wasn't even hungry. I've gone 24 hours without eating, but at the end of that time I was hungry. I was pushing 40 hours without even a twinge. This wasn't normal. Fat people must eat every few hours unless a) There are no food items or small animals available, or b) they're having a heart attack, and even then eating is possible unless it's a very severe heart attack. So when lunch time today came and went with only an iced tea and the occasional glass of water I began contemplate calling the doctor.

And then I started to think, maybe this isn't a bad thing. Maybe I'm just permanently full. How odd would that be? After 24 years of slowly gourging myself I've actually reached the point where I never have to eat again? But what if I'm just fucked up?

So at nine o'clock tonight, after 57 hours of unintentional fasting I munched on a handful of Chex-Mix and a piece of beef jerky. I kept it down so I guess that's a good sign.

So now I'm left to ponder what exactly is going on. I'm left to decide how exactly to handle this. And then there's another part to this story, I feel fine, in fact I feel great. My heart broke, and bled out. My body was tired, my bones ached. And suddenly I felt...different.

And now I'm left to wonder why. It will give me something to chew on.