Week 25. Year 2013
What an exceptional week.
Let’s just assume that the week started on Saturday.
It started with a teensy bit of red-hang-wine-over that carried me through most of the worm part of the morning fast asleep in my warm alcove that is my bed. The rest of the day went pretty lazily, such as a Saturday should, until it was time to get ready to go to the 80’s Brat Pack Show at the Winterland Spiegeltent. Got two free tickets from the wonderful Couchsurfing connections that have this habit of entering contests. And actually winning them! (I don’t ever win any contests or anything that’s draw of luck related) It was a delight to the eyes and ears. Though the tent setup, an actual tent, means that there’s no discrepancy between the outdoor and the inddor, hence frozen ass, safe to say I was all warm and fuzzy inside from classics such as L.O.V.E and some bunch of 80’s hits that felt familiar but far from my lyrics-recollection.
Sunday started even better than Saturday unbeknownst to the purchase of a suspected culprit of the ensuing week long drama. And here’s the play by play. Not that you ever asked of course. Walked to VicMart. Queued for Commonwealth’s ATM for almost a year (not really, but felt like it with the 10 people snaking around the bend in front of me). Complained about Commonwealth’s queue on twitter. Got cash out. Bought 100 grams mortadella. Bought 5$ lamb for half a kilo. (That should’ve been a clear warning of its own. 5 bucks! For 5 piece of chunky chunk of lambs!). Bought a ball of cauliflower and a tiny pack of strawberries. Yes. I have a very random diet. 100 grams of Gippsland Blue Cheese, tasty and creamy just the way I crave it mmh. And a pack of crackers. Go back home. Put in fridge. Done.
Comes Monday… I brought some of my haul to work and managed to demolished most of them before noon showed up. So by the time the clock spanked twelve right on the dot, I’ve demolished 2 thick slices of sunflower bread, 2 slices of mortadella and the smidge of blue cheese that I scooped earlier in the morning. It was a pretty slow –busy –busy- freaking busy –hecticly busy – OMGWTFISGOINGONbusy – day. So from spank o clock until 10:30pm that night I only managed to eat the half cucumber that I had left and a small bag of salt and vinegar chips from the vending machine. Oh and Boost juice, but that almost never counts. They just go straight through. Anyways. This is so not the point. I just haven’t written for a gazillion weeks it seems and am quite enthralled by the crazy things that still can come out from the tips of my fingers. Really. So 10.30pm. Finally went back home. Took tram. Was pretty pleased as I finally felt like a proper management consultant doing some proper work to save the world one spreadsheet at a time. Oh yes. We do. Life is awesome! So I tweeted. Back home, I opened the fridge and the lamb and I decided to have a 20 seconds stare down before I succumbed and decided to cooked it right there and then. It was 11 pm. And I decided to cook all my 500 grams of lambs. Oh yes oh yes. Two pieces grilled, one to eat that very night with some rice and steamed cauliflower and the other one to pack for lunch the next day. The other three pieces will get chopped up and go into a pot with some spinach and cauliflower simmering beautifully in some Japanese curry mix-cube-thing. I don’t know what it is with Japanese curry, but every time I think or hear or smell it, I salivate. Pavlov-curry right here. And that was the plan. So about 30-45 minutes, a bench full of dirty dishes, a fridge full of cooked lamb and a full tummy later, I went to bed. The end.
Or so you and I both wish.
I woke up the next day to a very unhappy tummy.
The next few days became a very enlightening experience, which is the point of the post really. So pardon my previous 800 words verbal diarrhea (which I didn’t have, in case you were wondering. Though things did come out through the other end though.. which isn’t really as gross.). So in any case. I felt sick. But not enough to keep me back at home. Yet. Went to work, with my packed lunch that was soberly decided not going to be the ‘cooked’ lamb. It was another cheese-bread-mortadella combo. Safe choice of all kind. Two hours later at work, I found it very hard to stay awake as every single cell of my body seemed to just have decided to start shutting down. Boost Juice! Oh yes! That would perk one up for sure. And the vitamins would surely help. So Boost Juice to the rescue. Half way through the huge glass (we get corporate discount, so I always manage to justify buying the biggest one), the juice started to taste like sewer mixed with acid. And my eyelids started to drop even faster than Australian Dollar is falling. (ha) Right. Time to pack up. So I just did. Packed up and went home. Oh the joy of flextime. Maybe I’ll just sleep it off for a couple hours and work from home the rest.
So I slept. And slept. And slept. Woke up and felt the sun was setting and my head was burning and all of my body was aching and that the world was ending. So I decided to slept some more. (probably not far from truth if the world is really ending) Woke up the second time in an exam room and snooping answers from the boy who was sitting next to me on the only subject he hates the most. Must be a dream. And so I slept some more. And I woke up in another dream. And that feverish sleep went on well into Wednesday morning when I magically felt neither body ache nor fever whatsoever.
Only my stomach and back was aching like all the expletives in the world. By the end of the morning I’ve crafted a ninja worthy art of positioning myself correctly in bed with the hot water bottle on either stomach or back in a way that would not cause any discomfort. At that point the boy made me promise to go to the doctor. So I booked an appointment and felt into another deep sleep. When I woke up I must’ve sweated all my pain away as the ache was reduced to an annoying discomfort of a huge blown balloon stuck up in your stomach. The doctor visit was uneventful. Waited 30 minutes to hear “Stomach virus. No medicine. Lotsa fluid. Sleep. Take another day off. I’ll give you doctor letter”. Oh the power to brandish as many extra leave days as you please to whomever you’re pleased to please. Discomfort lasted all night. Tossing and turning as my neck and back ached like none other. Gave up and get up around midnight to eat some Ferrero before I downed a pain killer. Massaged in some more minyak angin aromatherapy into the achy muscles and tried helplessly to go back to sleep. Trashing and turning well into the morning I did.
When I woke up.
On a bright chirpy Thursday morning.
To find all my pain.
(And 79$ for that 10 minutes of a doctor’s visit)
And worry of the world.
Like they’ve never happened!
I am alive!
I felt as fresh as I was when I walked back home on Monday night from work invigorated by the notion that life is awesome. And oh my how it surprised me.
To go from one end of ache to the other end of joy.
Well isn’t that life?
The point of this all is….. That was Monday night to Thursday morning. Within 3 days your body can go through such extremes and it can take it. Your heart can go through polarised extremes of failed dreams, hopes, broken bits and exuberant joys and success. And it can take it as well.
We are built to last!
And buy the amount of crazy ideas and optimism my fever seemed to have induced, it’s all for the better!
(Not that I’m condoning unsupervised sword-eating, fire-breathing, smoking or other intentionally body-harming rituals….)
At the end of the day, when you feel like you just can’t take it anymore, well hey, you might just can.