Who Needs a Liver Anyway? 12/14/2001
Yeah...so after that I was starting to get more than a little sick. I wasn't nauseous quite yet, but I needed to go to the bathroom. Becca's sorority sisters, either niceness or nervousness, pushed me to the front of the bathroom line because everyone said I looked sick. At that point I was just dizzy, not really nauseous. When I walked out of the bathroom, a wave of nausea hit me and I ended up throwing up into a group of people nearby. (Classy, huh?) Becca came up behind me a few minutes later. She kept saying that she needed to go home because she was really drunk. I'm still not quite sure if she got me out of their because she was embarrassed of me, for me, or if she really was drunk. But anyway...I threw up as we walked our way through the crowd. I don't think I vomited on anyone that Becca knew because she never mentioned anything about it. Ah well...Sorry Binghamton people....
Becca was walking me to her house after we got out. I don't remember where I was, I think it was on a curb after we had crossed the street, but I remember falling down and not being able to get up. My sister kept saying, "Artist, you have to get up! Get up now! Get up!" She sounded so nervous and upset that I managed to get up and follow her the rest of the way back.
I apologized to her several times before crashing on her Futon at around 2 am. The next morning, I knew I was in trouble when I opened my eyes. It honestly put me in serious pain to move any part of my body. I had to throw up again, and I would poke out my eye before I threw up in Becca's bed. I made an awkward, stumbling dash to the bathroom, praying no-one saw or heard me. I climbed back into bed, thinking I would be OK in a few hours. My sister woke me up at 10 am when she got out of bed. The pain was even worse by then. At that point, the pain had basically localized itself in my head and stomach; it felt as if there were two giant iron vises clamped to both. I tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't because I was just in so much pain. It still hurt to move, so I just kind of laid there.
By 2 pm I wanted to die. I had no idea how many times I had thrown up by then, but Becca's sorority sisters probably heard me at least once. The bathroom is located in the most inconvenient of places; right in the center of the hallway where everyone can hear what you're doing. I climbed back into Becca's bed after throwing up for the millionth time when she gave me some aspirin. It numbed the pain and finally allowed me to sleep...for an hour. Becca literally pulled me out of bed at 3 pm, saying that I needed to eat and shower. Dammit. I don't care if I needed to shower, I needed to sleep.
Becca was being really sweet, but all I just wanted to do was sleep. The aspirin had made me so drowsy I couldn't think straight..not that I could before, but now it was even worse. She made me go downstairs, saying that I needed something to eat something. So I go downstairs, looking like a truck ran me over. My hair was all stiff and funky from noit being washed, from the sweat last night, and God knows what else had gotten in my hair. Now, I'm not saying Becca's sorority girls (I refuse to just call them her sisters; I am her sister, they just the same members of a glorified club.) have to be my friend, or kiss my ass. I just think they should be civil. Not a single one of them even looked up when I entered the kitchen. No "Good afternoon," or "Did you have fun last night?"...I just felt very unwelcome. I'm still not quite sure why Fate threw Becca and I together as sisters. We are friends with two totally different types of people. Had I been in Becca's sorority, they would not have given me the time of day, not to mention asked me to live in the same house as them. I'm just not as likable as Becca...but anyway...
How I didn't kill myself in that bathroom is beyond me. I kept falling over in the shower but luckily I caught myself every time.
Then, Becca had a great idea that me, her, and Michele should go out to eat. Becca is the only person I know who eats with a hangover. Hell, after she got her teeth pulled out, she kept telling our mother how hungry she was. She's also the only person I know whose first thoought if food when she gets out of surgery. The food didn't really help out my situation too much. My stomach was absolutely killing me by that point and I felt even worse because I did NO studying that weekend and my finals were in two weeks.
By Sunday, I was still feeling a little ill. I'm convinced that if I had a few more drinks, I probably would have landed myself in the hospital. So yeah, if I went to Binghamton, I'd probably be like that every semester. But then again, I'd be in Becca's sorority since I'm a legacy and I already have a bid. I would be able to meet more people and I could get into bars, so I would have more to do on the weekend instead of renting movies and eating Dominoes, or going to Country Club.
The weekend was great because it let me take the edge off some of my stress, which I desperately needed. On the other hand, it made me even more conscious of all the things that Becca had that I wanted...
Phobia of the Day: Dinophobia- Fear of dizziness
Later
Artist
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