When I went to bed Saturday night I had a sudden rush to the head. I felt flush, confused somewhat, did not know what was wrong. All I know is that I had to lay down. I managed to fall asleep rather quickly but then sometime during the night it hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew something was wrong, my stomach felt off-its-course and I was starving, thirsty. Early Sunday morning I threw up. Then I tried to drink some water cos that surely does leave a hellish taste in your mouth -- I must have threw that up within three minutes of drinking. All of Sunday, horrible. I must have thrown up twenty times. Each time I drank sometime I would throw up and sometimes I would throw up just from thinking about drinking something. I threw up so much that there wasn't anything in my system left to throw up anymore. Dry heaves and what not. Twenty four straight hours of absolute living hell. Sunday night I was forced to call into work. There was no way in hell I would have been able to work. I feel horrible, I think its the first time I called into work because I was sick. Then this morning I made way to the fridge to find an unopened Coca-Cola. My mouth watered any way it could thinking about how wonderful that would taste. I gave it a shot, and it went down fine. I didn't drink too much of it cos I was afraid of throwing it back up. I laid on the couch, my stomach accepted it, and a hour later I had some more. So good. Our house is in dire need of some good Progresso soup. Big time. My back in so much pain right now from all the laying down and all the throwing up. I need to get out and move around. I feel like I have two billiards balls behind my kidneys and they try and move around each time I do. I thought about going to the bookstore, but maybe I'll go to Sentry, get some real good soup, and some other things. Maybe I'll go to a half-priced books or something, but I do know that I need to do something I feel trapped. My wife kept me sane the whole two days. For that I'm eternally indebted to her.