Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Let It Pass

All week I have been sick.
It started last Friday in Denver
after I ate at this Indian restaurant my sister said was good.
Later that night I was nauseous.
By Monday,
I couldn’t eat much of anything
and by Wednesday everything I’d eaten
for what seemed like the past three months,
was pouring out of me faster
than you could say the word
“projectile.”
Now I have had stomach pains
so strong I have been unable to sleep.
Last night,
when I was writhing in bed for hours,
I was sure I had discovered what labor must feel like.
To combat the effects of whatever this is I have,
I have resorted to a variety of tools:
heating pads and hot water bottles,
Sprite,
apple juice,
white rice,
saltine crackers
Gatorade,
and even swallowing half a glass of baking soda.
None of it has helped much.
So this morning
I called the doctor
thinking I must have some sort of bacterial food poisoning.
I was prepared to go in,
and face the litany of blood tests and stool samples,
when the receptionist
told me there is a wicked stomach flu going around
and there is nothing that can be done for it except
to “let is pass.”
Easy for her to say.