•Friday•
I didn't go anywhere last night. No Krash. No party. No View bar in Chelsea.
I went up to White Plains in the morning and by the time I got into the city ... I had a headache. I picked up the keys to Eric's apartment, went to Jersey ... packed clothes and went back to the city.
My head was throbbing by then. I called Husani and told him to call me when he was done teaching his class. I took a nap ... thinking that would help the headache go away. It didn't.
Husani called me around 9. I was totally out of it. I told him I had a headache and was going back to bed. By now ... I felt totally sick. Headache and nausea. It had to be the heat. It was extremely hot and the AC wasn't on. I slept some more. Probably around 11 ... I felt even worse and I could feel my chest heaving.
"I'm gonna throw up," I thought.
I sat up in bed wishing my stomach would just settle. It didn't. I rushed to the bathroom, threw the toilet seat up and spewed my breakfast, lunch and the little I actually had for dinner. Y'know sometimes you feel better after you throw up? It wasn't so in this case. I sat there ... kneeling on the floor .. praying to the porcelain god. It felt like someone was squeezing my stomach in a vise. I mean ... there was nothing in my stomach ... I could feel it ... yet I was still throwing up. I felt sick and pissed at the same time.
I got up, washed my hands and face and rinsed my mouth out. I glanced in the mirror. I looked better than I actually felt. I wasn't in bed for long before everything repeated.
"No ... not again," I whispered. "Please .... not again."
I got out of bed and threw up around 4 times before finally falling asleep for good. I hadn't thrown up in a while and I forgot how I used to feel sick as a kid. Kneeling there in the bathroom on the cold tiles made me think back to that time. My mom and sister around me. Holding me while I throw up. Throw up and cry. I thought I'd never have to feel that way again. I thought I'd never been that sick again. Last night proved that it's still possible. The really sad part was being alone. Looking around the apartment seeing that the only other living thing was the cat.
My stomach felt totally hollow this morning. Like that scene in Death Becomes Her ... when Merryl Streep blew a hole in Goldie Hawn's stomach with a shotgun. I also felt totally weak. There wasn't much to eat at the apartment so I had to go around the corner to the bagel shop to get breakfast. Soon after breakfast, Norm called and asked me to meet her at Starbucks. There's a Starbucks not that far from the apartment ... but it's not like I actually live here so I didn't know. I went by what I could've worn I heard Norm say and ended up at Central Park. On any other day ... I wouldnt've cared ... but I felt as if I was gonna just fall any second. I called her on her cell and got the directions again. We met for a little while and I came back to the apartment. My whole body feels totally frail right now. I'm still in that post-spewing weakness so I'll try and take a nap in a while.
