Of course it didn't happen until Friday night while at dinner with my boyfriend's family. I knew my stomach felt raw, but while I sat at the table not touching any of the delicious food that sat before me I started thinking "I'm going to puke all over this table… wait… no I'm not… yes, yes I am". After a few minutes of this I decided to go lay down, and soon after we went home. And that's when shit got reaaaaaaal.
No one wants to hear this, but it's a little fun to tell - so I'm going to tell it anyways. I barfed, and barfed, and barfed. Disgusting. I barfed when there was nothing left to barf. My boyfriend was a champion and laid on the couch with me (in between barf sessions), and told me I looked pretty and that my voice was sexy (gravely from all the barfing).
The next day, I had the optimistic notion that I'd go *watch* my horse be ridden since I couldn't participate in the lesson. Ha! What a joke. I wound up feeling worse and worse, and my boyfriend finally took me (three sweatshirts on, crackers in hand) to an urgent care place. I wound up getting IV fluids and some sort of IV anti-nausea stuff. Basically, I was just crazy dehydrated (did I mention the intense vomiting?) which caused really low blood pressure and didn't help my stupid fever.
I can't just post a picture of me looking awful, and a blog about me puking - so here's a cute picture of my monkeydog sunbathing Monday morning (he always finds the beam of sunlight and sits down and enjoys). Oh, what a life. :)