Down for the count....
Under the weather....
Hit me like a ton of bricks....
Since I am so focused on language lately, I tend to relate everything to it. The idioms above all apply to me today. The "ton of bricks" that hit me? That would be a bout of food-poisoning.
When I got up this morning, I felt great, and it was a beautiful day. My plans for the day included teaching until period 5, heading into Zugdidi to go to the hospital for my next shot in the anti-rabies-injection series with which I am almost finished, stopping by the library for a new movie and book, and maybe trying a short run since my leg is feeling a bit better. I got as far as the teaching part of my day.
At the end of period two with my angelic fifth-graders, I suddenly felt nauseous. As I walked down the hall with Lika, I wondered what in the world was wrong with me. I was feeling worse by the second. I sat down in the teacher's room and tried to ignore the waves of nausea that were quickly inundating me. Ignoring it didn't work.
As I walked to the bathroom, I knew that it was something that I had eaten. I've had food-poisoning before, and the sharp pain in my stomach told me that what I had for breakfast was going to come back up -- a piece of bread, shredded potato salad, and some wicked spicy wild mushrooms.
I'll spare you the details. Let's just say that spicy mushrooms are not fun the second time around. After throwing up, I thought that I would feel better, but I was still weak, pale, and my stomach hurt. I walked back into the teachers' room, and Lika took one look at me..... she said that she would take me to see her mother (she's the village nurse).
The doctor's office is just down the road from the school, and one of the teachers who has a car (she's the only one who drives to school) drove us there. In the quarter-mile distance between school and the doctor, I threw up two more times.... then again at the doctor's office.
The doctor handed Lika some medication for me and written instructions for Tea. We got back into the car and drove to Tea's house.
Tea's mom was at the house helping with some spring cleaning, so I had three generations of care-giving: Tea, her mom, and "Our Grandmother." They all hovered around while I threw up again. When they had decided that it was the mushrooms that affected me, they wanted me to "wash out" my stomach before taking any of the medication. That meant downing a half-liter jar of warm water..... that would purposefully come back up. Tea's mom wanted me to do it four times. Two was all I could take. After the second "washing," I did feel somewhat better. At least the pain was gone.
I went inside to lie down on the couch, and Tea brought me the meds that the doctor had ordered: 10 jet-black tablets that I was supposed to take all at once, and some salty, warm liquid that I was supposed to drink every 15 minutes all day. Tea thought that taking all 10 tablets was a bit over-board, so she gave me four of them. When she put them into my hand, I commented that they looked like charcoal. (Later I looked at the package..... I was right.) I took the pills, threw back a shot-glass of the salty stomach-cure, and lay on the couch.
My head hurt. My body was exhausted. I dozed off and on.
Whatever crazy concoction I drank along with the stomach-washing and charcoal-filtering of my system did the trick. All the nastiness was done. In the past when I have had food-poisoning, the nausea and throwing-up has hung around all day. Not this time.
Now I feel much better. I have kept down some bread, tea, and mineral water. But I am weak and tired. If I feel well enough in the morning, I'll go to school. Spring break starts on Thursday, and I'd like to work this week at least a little bit! The rabies-shot and library will have to wait..... maybe Wednesday.
Here's another appropriate idiom for me: When it rains, it pours.