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Like a firehose
I hate repetition, and I hate feeling unwell. So I’m just lovin’ this post.
The Norwalk virus - yes, it has a name - has lodged in my gut once more, with all the symptoms of viral gastroenteritis that you know and love. Feeling better today than last night (which was not hard, believe me), but in no condition to go to work tomorrow. Additionally, I haven’t left the communicable phase of this, and I’m sure my coworkers would cast big, big votes for me staying away from the office. So.
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Hello, kitty
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© 2008 Philip Barron. 
Ok — based on that link, it sounds like you might be eating something you shouldn’t be. I wonder what?
Not sure, but trying to weed out some suspects now. Rotisserie chicken? Deli sliced turkey? I think M suspects those. I had wondered if working with the compost pile out back was at all connected, but am inclined to say no: it’s enclosed so that no animals can get at it, and we’re rather judicious about what goes into the pile. Still thinking.
A few years ago I was sick in a way I hope never to be again. In addition to the imaginable unmentionables, I was so dizzy that getting out of bed to deal with the unmentionables was dangerous. On the third day, I had my son take me to the dr.
The dr. never gave me the NAME of what hit me, but he said it was probably caused by undercooked chicken. So, I’m inclined to go with M’s theory, just because I have a little personal history and a, um, gut feeling about it.
I hope your never-ending story ends soon.