I think that last time I vomited occurred in February 2021. That would be a few years ago. My streak of five years and three months of being vomit-free ended this past Wednesday (05/13). I had eaten one of those Robert Irvine FitCrunch bars for breakfast and let me tell you. That little chocolate bar not only ruined my day, but it did something just awful to my insides. About three hours after eating that bar and feeling nauseous for the majority of that time, it would all come back out in, what to me, was quite possible the most violent bout of hurling that I had ever endured. I could feel it throughout my entire body, that sensation that indeed, something in my stomach wants out and it was going to come out, one way or another, whether or not I wanted it to. I tried to hold it in, because like most of us, I would think, no one ever wants to vomit. It's just not a good thing to go through. In the end, I could not fight back my digestive system any longer and out into the bathtub would those contents fly and ultimately land.
The bathtub would soon contain a thin brownish sludge, along with some of the remnants of that morning's breakfast, as well some of Tuesday night's dinner mixed in. Most of the previous night's remnants looked to be three or four undigested chunks of French fry. The brown sludge was obviously that evil and vile chocolate FitCrunch bar. Vomit has a distinct scent to it, a rather unpleasant one at that, though for some reason, it didn't seem to bother me as much as I thought it would have. I guess the pain and relief I felt were enough to make me disregard the reality that the bathtub probably didn't smell very good after I was finished.
I took it easy the rest of the day. I even went back to work, but I was minimally productive once I there. I still felt terrible and truthfully, the last thing I wanted to do was work or apply myself in any way. I can't even say that I tried. I had just gone back to work, if for no other reason, than to be a physical presence. That's all I ever tend to be in the office these days anyway, so in that sense, this was not out of the ordinary for me. I was there. I didn't do anything, but I was there. Actually, now that I think of it, that pretty much what the majority of my coworkers do and have been doing for months.
I didn't challenge my stomach too much the rest of the day, beyond foods that I felt were easy on the stomach (a bean burrito, chicken soup) and a fair amount of fluids, water mostly.
I woke up Thursday morning, early as I normally do, and I felt fine. Everything was back to normal.
I threw the remaining two FitCrunch in the trash before I went to bed on Wednesday night. I am done with those. After what happened to me on Wednesday, there's no way in hell I eat those ever again, not even if desperate or starving.
Beyond this bout of mid-week, food-induced queasiness, the rest of the week was pretty uneventful. I worked all week. I played a few video games. I slept. It was all pretty routine and hardly anything exciting.
My life has to be pretty bland when vomiting ends up being the highlight of the week for me.
Truth be told, I'll be the last person to describe my life as exciting.
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