Adult in Training

So I’m going to Ottawa this weekend to help my aunt move.  Because I do a lot of schlepping at POE, and have to consider myself something of a professional now.  And also because I am not a dick.  So then why, on the morning I am supposed to leave, has God stricken me with crippling stomach pains?

And no, I do simply mean cramps.  Trust me when I tell you that I have no problems talking about that type of pain.  I went to an all-girls high school, it was weird when of us wasn’t talking about cramps. This time I am talking about a fist in my stomach, made of lead, that has gathered up the contents of said stomach and is holding everything hostage.  That’s what it feels like.  But only when I am standing up.  I’m sort of fine when I am sitting.  Then just my back hurts, but I’d like to think that’s unrelated.  What is my problem!!!

Last time I went to my aunt’s house, I drank a red bull before I left, and then pounded another one when I got there.  Then, about four hours later I’m pretty sure I started having heart palpitations, while simultaneously suffering a huge allergy attack to her (hypoallergenic) dog.  And then I passed out and slept for thirteen hours.  The inside of my nose has still not recovered completely. 

So now, I sit typing, while both my mother and I ponder what could be wrong with me.  I sit, because it’s the only time I don’t feel like there is something very wrong.  Something that neither Tums nor gingerale can fix.  Mom won’t let me have Pepto-Bismol, because she says that my stomach isn’t upset, due to my lead fist analogy.  She says I need to shake it up, so to speak.  I find that extremely concerning. 

So I am hoping that within the next half-hour I am feeling better.  Because I have places to go and people to see.  If I was only missing work, I wouldn’t be so concerned.  In fact, if I was only missing work, I would probably be treating this situation much the same way I would have if I was having exams right now; which is to say that I would be thanking my lucky stars and crossing my fingers, hoping that the mysterious illness would last long enough to stop being inconvenient and morph into awesome enough to get me out of my responsibilities.  Not the case.