It’s a small intestine after all

Have you wondered where I've been all day? Or have you been going about your life, indifferent to my stupid blog?

I'll tell you where I've been all day, oh Indifferent One. I've been TRYING NOT TO BARF, that's where I've been!

Because it's not bad enough that I had a tooth extracted. It's not bad enough that I have to have a $2823456789009876534567890  implant. It wasn't dreadful enough to have a dry socket. No. I had to also HAVE A REACTION TO MY MEDICATION.

Seriously, did I kick a baby or something? Why all the bad karma?

So I have been alternating between lying very, very still on the couch or DASHING to the bathroom, pray pray praying I don't barf. Because have I mentioned I have not barfed since October of 1982? Have I mentioned I am afraid of barfing? Have I brought that up at all? Because not bringing it up is a big goal with me.

Once I drank with one of Timothy Leary's relatives. I am not making this up. We were at a big, fancy Christmas party and we commenced to drinking and there was a merry-go-round at the party and all of a sudden there were three merry-go-rounds. Three.

Thank heavens I got home thanks to some decent person at the party, because I totally lost all the people I had come with, and I totally lost Timothy Leary's relative, and anyway the POINT of my story is that was in 1992 and I really, really would have felt better the next day had I barfed. I know I would have. But I just couldn't.

And as an aside, Timothy Leary's relative showed up at my house the next day and she felt as fine as frog's fur. "Hey! Let's go to a movie!" She was all chipper.

I am not good at tuning in and turning on or whatever. Despite my hippie childhood.

So while I was lying there today, in my misery, the ice cream truck kept driving up and down my street. Okay, first of all, it's raining. Who's in the mood for ice cream on a rainy day? And forty-fifth? Kids are back in school here. So who is he TEMPTING with his truck and his little tinny "It's a Small World After All"?

You have no idea how many times I heard that song today as I clutched myself and prayed not to barf. It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a SMALL world after all! It's a small small small small world.

Cause THERE'S a song that doesn't stay in your head. It's pleasant when you're ill. Is what it is.

The only up side to this story–and thank heavens there is not an upchuck side to this story–is that Faithful Reader Shana showed me how to do this:

PhotoFunia-3d0d24

Want to do it? So to speak? Click here.

Heart Shana. Heart self. Heart our small world, after all.

33 thoughts on “It’s a small intestine after all

  1. Our ice cream truck recently changed their tune to It’s A Small World, before that it was the theme song from The Sting, and before that it was Turkey In The Straw. Why no Led Zeppelin? Why no B-52’s? Or even the Bee Gee’s, that would be awesome!

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  2. OMG. Some modeling agency is going to see that mock up of you on Esquire and they are TOTALLY GOING TO OFFER YOU A MODELING CONTRACT. Mark my words. And you’ll have me to thank. You’re welcome.

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  3. PS:Congratulations on the not barfing. Sorry you are ill. How’s your socket? Is it juicy yet? Also, have you made yourself a tattoo on David Beckham’s abs yet?

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  4. PPS:That juicy socket comment? I know that is seriously some Comment of The Week shit. But that’s OK. You don’t have to bestow upon me the honor. I’ll know it in my heart.

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  5. Shudder. Your day sounds like the worst ever. Was it Percocet? Vicodin? Is your tooth getting better? I hope so, after a day like today.

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  6. I for one checked your blog multiple times today to see if you were okay. I’m sorry to hear you are not. I think the last time I barfed was 20 years ago when I was starting a new job and had gone out with some girlfriends the night before as a going-away party. It was some kind of lady’s night and they were giving away free champagne, and man did I get toasted (someone else drove me home…). So there I was the next day at my new job, so hungover I couldn’t stand up, and at some point got so nauseous I ran down the hall to the bathroom (luckily unoccupied) to puke my guts out. I decided then and there that I would never drink enough to get puking drunk ever again, and I haven’t. I’m sure barf stories settle your stomach nicely, don’t they?
    I hope you feel better soon.

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  7. I looked for you first thing this morning, as usual. Then I remembered you were ill with the dreaded dry socket, so I wasn’t going to mention my crushing disappointment. But, still, it was crushing, devastating disappointment. I’ll be okay, I think, hope you will be, too!

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  8. I actually don’t read your blog until later in the evening. I save it up for an end-of-the-day treat. I’m gonna get all junior high on you and proclaim your blog to be my second-favorite blog, which means it’s the second to last thing I read before I go to bed. So, you’re part of my bedtime routine!

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  9. I really feel your pain. The last time I barfed was March 2002. Hip replacement, demerol. It was awful. It was so awful I would not take the Perocet Rx for pain after I came home, so basically I recovered from MAJOR surgery with nothing for pain.
    One of our best friends got stuck on the Small Small World ride at Disney World, the music almost drove him crazy before they could the passengers off the ride. LOL!

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  10. I think everyone else pretty much covered it, all I have left to say is: Get Well Soon! Thats a plea, not a demand. Its not like im saying “Hey, you, with the dry socket, get well soon, you got that!?” Its always seemed like that to me when I see those balloons in the grocery store that scream it at you in bright vivid colors. I’m like “Alright already. Geez!”
    Hmm…Maybe I did have more to say than: Get well soon, please?
    -Whitni
    http://www.thedelightfuldaisy.blogspot.com

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  11. Oh, poor, poor June… did you sent your throw up germs over to my house? to Spotte the purrin’ girl? who has now been diagnosed with gastroenteritis. (who knew CATS could get that? – especially indoor cats)
    After 2 days and 1 night at the vet to recover from much throwing up and diarrhea – ka ching ka ching – she’s home and the antibiotics they sent home with her have – wait for it – guess what side effects.
    Spotte is feeling your pain and I hope you feel better soon.

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  12. It could have been coming out of both ends at once…
    …and the ice cream truck could have been playing a loop of Christmas music (ours does).
    Don’t you feel better already?? 🙂
    (I hope you do; I trust you will!)

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  13. Oh friend!
    I am so sorry, but if it helps, the fact that you used the word “barf” makes me love you more.
    The only thing WORSE than throwing up (for me) are the “p” and “v” words used for barfing.
    Not that I love the “b” word, its just, better, than those other words.
    Praying your feeling better today!

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  14. Not a good day for you, sorry to hear. It may be time to throw up your hands, declare yesterday a loss, get up, chuck those pjs, and rally out to the curb to heave some money at the ice cream man.

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  15. I do not get the pain med love. They always make me ill without the fun effects that make people go all Rush Limbaugh and have to enter rehab and such.
    I have enough left over oxycontin from my two surgeries this year to be jailed for trafficking.
    Feel better, June.

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  16. I do not get the pain med love. They always make me ill without the fun effects that make people go all Rush Limbaugh and have to enter rehab and such.
    I have enough left over oxycontin from my two surgeries this year to be jailed for trafficking.
    Feel better, June.

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  17. I do not get the pain med love. They always make me ill without the fun effects that make people go all Rush Limbaugh and have to enter rehab and such.
    I have enough left over oxycontin from my two surgeries this year to be jailed for trafficking.
    Feel better, June.

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  18. Okay, so now I see we’ve moved on to discuss barfing. As long as it is not blood or dentistry that’s fine by me.
    I’m the queen of barfing. I make my husband so proud because I can’t hold my liquor. At all. I’m fine one minute, and then the next my eyes are all Marty Feldman like and I barf. For days.
    Just last weekend a group of us went to tour a brewery and then from there we went to eat at a Greek place. Guess who drank ouzo and participated in the Greek line dance around the room 700 times? Guess who started to look like Buddy Hackett? Guess who barfed when she got home? Hey atleast
    I had the sense to say no when the waiter tried to coax me into dancing on top of the table. Thank God. I was seconds away from doing it.

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  19. Oh Steve, you have surely earned Comment o’ the Week with that post. At which point we will all commence hurling roses at your feet and tossing cookies your way!

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  20. Is some sort of prize at stake for not barfing? I wish I’d known about this before my college bulimia years. I’m pretty sure my competitive nature could have saved my parents lots of money on therapy.

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  21. I checked in after the kids got on the bus and realized you were off with the dry socket. I was sad but I put aside my selfish thoughts and hoped you would be feeling better soon. Around lunchtime I checked in again and then saw this sad post at bedtime. It sounds like you had fun-filled day in your small world.

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  22. It IS a small world afterall. I, too, as well, concentrated very hard yesterday not to barf. I, however, was unsuccesful. Barfed I did. And now today? My back muscles are SORE. That is how hard I puked. It was violent, I tell you.
    Someday, when we aren’t poor anymore, I will get a new computer and be able to comment on a daily basis. Which is something I know you’ve been waiting for with baited breath. I know my sissy Jan has. This economy sucks, June. SUCKS. And being poor? Sucks worse. But puking when you are caring for your pastor’s child? Even worse still. And having to dash past said pastor’s wife after you have called her to come pick up said child because you are too ill to care for him any longer, to reach the bathroom in the NICK of time and wretch your guts out along with your spleen, liver, AND lungs? The worst yet. Finding out you have other intestinal issues along with the puking WHILE puking but not being able to do a dingity dangity thing about it because you are bent over the toilet wretching, not only the absolute WORST, but also mortifying as well. It was not a pretty site or smell. That is all.

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  23. Oh dear. I, too, checked in multiple times to see how you were. Dry sockets…what fresh hell is this?
    Hope the meds are doin’ their thing.
    Perhaps there will be weight loss?
    Take Care, Junie.

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  24. My mum’s a doctor and we were walking in New York when we see these two ladies crying and one of them’s screaming for an ambulance on her mobile. There’s a baby turning blue in their pram so my mum picked it up and did this anti-choking-child manouvere as it was so chubby it was choking on its own vomit. It started coughing and crying and a crowd gathered in a dramatic “You saved the baby!” way while my mum loses her cool by flicking baby vom off her hands and screaming “ew ew ew GET THAT BABY AWAY FROM ME!”

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  25. So sorry about the dry socket and then a reaction to the meds. Terrible. I generally do not do well with anything more serious than ibuprofen. I’m a total wimp. I once tried a percocet and hallucinated for hours that spiders were crawling all over me and all over my room. It was the freakiest thing I’ve ever been through! Never again!
    What did they give you? When I had the dry socket, I just used the clove oil packed into it for like 2 weeks. Worked like a charm!

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  26. Wow, I am totally impressed with your blogging dedication; I’d be curled up in the fetal position in the closet. There must be an award for your selflessness and dedication. Were Henry & Tallulah your faithful companions all day? After my wisdom teeth removal when I was 19, I was puking my guts out from the meds. My golden retriever did a “Lassie” — she barked and pulled on my boyfriend’s jacket sleeve to make him come get me. Feel better soon. Hey maybe you’ll lose a few pounds. There’s always a bright side!

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  27. You know? What good is getting permission for the good drugs when they make you wanna barf?? I’m so sorry you’re having a crappy day.
    If it helps, you’re not the only one having a crappy day:
    My husband is home for the next week after having had surgery. And as if that weren’t torture enough, they have him in a catheter for the week. We all know men don’t heal as well nor as fast as we do (read: they’re big ole babies, is what)so it’s been a little peckish around here.
    I’ll trade you.

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