This is the only photo that is related to this gruesome tale that you’d want to see.

Since it’s Spring Break for my friends who remain wage slaves, I am happy to spend time with them.  Joe wanted to go to Hartville Hardware, reported to be the biggest hardware store in Ohio, to look at super log splitters.  The commercial grade log splitters were very nice.  I coveted many of the tools, but was proud of myself for not buying anything.  I was on a good fiscal responsibility streak.

Joe bought us lunch.  I had the meatloaf special, so had a good slab of meat plus three sides.  I don’t normally dine that early, but am fond of meatloaf.

I went for a hair cut, and ate normally for the rest of the day.

Around 11 pm, I took a turn for the worse.

There was a firm pressure, turning to pain, in my innards, like someone had a firm grip on my spleen.  My first thought was that I’d eaten too much or eaten something off in Hartville.  I laid down on the coach, hoping if I napped a bit, it would resolve itself.  Sparky thought we should watch some TV, but that meant that he would lean into me and nestle in to my belly.   That is usually fun, but the pain made me try to convince him to not be so chummy.  He was skeptical.

I was feeling nauseated, so had to kick him off the couch.  I was at the point where vomiting might resolve the issue.  I did, vigorously, but that didn’t resolve anything.  With my belly empty, I continued to be nauseated.  I drank water, and that came back up.

Some years ago, I was in this condition, and called the Nurse Hotline.  The nurse suggested that I don’t put anything in my belly, and the vomit reflex would subside.  That worked then, so I tried it.  For three hours, I had nothing in my system and every 15 or 20 minutes, I’d have to go try again.  I kept hoping there was some compartment in my stomach that would yield it’s foul contents.  Or, maybe the whole system would back up, like a basement in Fairview, and sewer water would travel the wrong way through my pipes.  Nothing helped.

In between the wretched bouts, I would try to sleep, but my dreams were horribly mundane.  In one dream, I was trying to assign algebraic variables to my nieces like x1,  x2,  and so on.  When I decided that Brantley would have to be a y1, I realized this was stupid and made myself wake up.  Whenever I got some sleep, it was something exceedingly boring like this.

I had taken my temperature several times, and was at a constant 97.6 F, so no fever.

The pain was consistent at about a 6 or 7 on the scale.  When I had kidney stones, the pain was worse, but intermittent.

I hadn’t had anything in my stomach for hours and nothing notable had come out the other end, so it seemed like this wasn’t the flu or bad food.  Sparky stayed nearby, but out of the way.

Because of the pain or lack of sleep, I wasn’t thinking very well, so figured at a decent hour, I’d call my brother.  If he came over, he would get me to an emergency room and get Sparky sorted out.