Three foot surgeries, one broken ankle, several other surgeries, tendonitis, arthritis – I have had my share, but the two worse things I loathe when it comes to health issues are head colds and most of all, stomach ailments.

Empty desks have spotted the work floor this week.  Stomach ailments.  The shark was circling.

I’m not a big advocate for all the hand sanitizers and whatnot that people are always slathering on these days.  Too many good germs get washed away – throwing the baby out with the bath water, as my mother says.  I just wash my hands with soap and try not to put my fingers in my mouth on a regular basis.  Besides I find that most grab me up by the scruff of the neck stuff is airborne anyway.

Those rotten little kamikaze germs finally found their way to me this week.

Monday’s symptoms had me sweating all through Anthropology class and out for the count for work.

False hope reigned on Tuesday.

Wednesday’s child is full of woe is me.  This morning, as soon as the last bite of raisin bran hit my stomach, I knew.  Ambush.

Bashert will tell you in a heartbeat that I do not do well with stomach ailments.  I prefer my stomach contents to be processed in the correct direction and will fight the last good fight for this to remain so.

She found me upstairs an hour later in the bed immobile.  Not moving has always been my best defense.  The next line is a wonderful little chemical prescribed by physicians called promethazine.  Outside of a tincture of belladonna, it is hands down the best stuff I’ve ever had to combat stomach ailments.

We call it white gold.

Bashert kindly had the doctor call some in for me and I can feel the effects beginning. Stomach has settled some and soon I will be easing off into a nice visit with la-la-land, sleeping my way through the evil little germs’ war with my system.

Give me sore feet any day.