Sunday, November 15, 2009

purge


kay folks, this is going to be a pretty nasty posting, just wanted to warn ya. nasty in a graphic gross sense...not a meanie sense.

thursday night everything was going swimmingly well. SN and i split quite a few dishes at a neighborhood bistro in the city. i had not even a half a glass of red wine.....


yet, a few hours later as i was on the BART train, i felt myself become queasy with absolutely no warning. once i realized that i was going to vomit, i scurried off to find a space away from people and then ended up vomiting in my very nice marimekko bag (which i am still soaking in a detergent mix in my bathtub at the moment). this continued on for about 25-35 minutes until i reached the berkeley BART station. as i exited the station, i sorta collapsed on a bench outside of the station and realized that i couldn't walk to the taxi area much less my place from the station. so i called JB and thankfully, she and her bro were home. they came and got me and then helped me get into my place. they stayed with me for the next couple of hours as my body decided to continuously purge from various orifices. JB at one point was on the phone with SN to figure out what we had eaten for dinner because i wasn't coherent enough to tell JB what i had eaten. i was pretty out of it and was (i realize now in hindsight) on the verge of passing out. i just remember telling JB that i was really sleepy. then there was one of the more alarming signs when it looked like i was coughing up blood, and well, that is when there was an executive decision made about taking me to the ER.

sometimes, we (or i) have the oddest thoughts during times like this. when i saw the brownish red in the bowl i was holding as i was sitting on the throne and smelled that metallic smell that comes with blood, i remember thinking "this is not good." then it was followed up by a decidedly more morbid thought that consisted of "well, everyone that i love knows that i love them, so it is ok." jez, looking back at that moment, that was pretty morbid. true, but still morbid.

anyway, after the adventure of JB and her bro getting me to the emergency room, there was miraculously, no wait. so i was whisked into a room, hooked up to machines and an iv with multiple tubes that included various liquids. i lost track of the different kinds. JB was the one that was asking about what each of them was. it was also a bit surreal to see my limbs going through these spasms under the hospital sheets and think "well, will you look at that?". unlike the earlier spasms that happened to my legs earlier, i couldn't feel these. then, Dr. Spitfire came into the room. i call her Dr. Spitfire because she didn't walk or glide into the room, she bounded into the room with such incredible energy that even me in my hazy state could recognize it. after she did her various pokes/prods/questions etc, other random thoughts i had included "hey, you seem pretty cool. i wish i could have met you in different circumstances." then i thought, "you know, if i was a lesbian, i'd totally be into you." in between her visits, i said to the nurse, "the doc is a real spitfire isn't she?". the nurse just rolled her eyes and said "tell me about it."

see what happens when i get sick?

oh, it gets better.

i get discharged about 2:30ish in the morning on friday and then attempt my recovery for a while with sleeping, sipping liquids, and checking facebook/email in between the sleeping and sipping. then my cell phone rings on saturday and when i look to see who it is, i thought "oh for fuck's sake". i realize the gawds have a very wicked sense of humor. it isn't like this person had any idea of my recent ordeal. yet, there he was, calling me. the fates have obviously decided that it was time for the foodie hunter to address a few things. so we talked for over an hour or so and perhaps it was my weakened state, but i really didn't have any energy for guarded barriers and the maintenance of my enormous amount of pride....and was just brutally honest, open, and really put myself out there.

i'm not going to lie, it was a rather painful experience. cathartic? yes. a growing experience? absolutely. yet, still an extraordinarily emotionally painful experience.

yet, at the end of the day, as i told him.......i was willing to go through all of this because i asked myself "do i want him in my life?" and the answer was "yes. no doubt.". i miss my friend. he is, was, and always be, one of the most important people in my life. time and distance doesn't matter. this is just how it is. i don't know what our friendship will look like, or if we will even be friends. yet, i said my peace, hope we will be friends, and realize that if i look back in 20 years, i won't have regrets because i willingly opened myself up and put myself out there.

so here i am today, eating my bowl of chao made with chicken broth and reflecting on this whole experience.


this may sound really odd, but i don't feel more guarded. i was expecting that i would be. but this isn't the case at all. in many ways i feel relieved, not having to carry the burden of not giving it my best before (i.e., not willing to be vulnerable), and now.... i feel very free. it is like i am able to move forward without these weights holding me back.

if you would have told me that this is how it would feel like, i probably wouldn't have believed you and likely would have cheerfully stabbed you with a fork. i mean, rationally, how does putting your heart and emotions through the wringer, it not turning out too well, make you feel open rather than more guarded? this is a bit of logic puzzle for me, the super duper analytical foodie hunter, but that is just how it is.

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