Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
* * *
“Do you think you got food poisoning?” Alex asked later that night, running a washcloth under cold water in our bathroom sink so he could press it against the back of my neck.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, too tired to care if he saw me vomiting.
I’d been in the bathroom for hours, with no end in sight, and I finally came to the conclusion that I’d just have to be mortified later. I was too busy feeling awful now.
“There’s no way Mrs. K gave me food poisoning,” I said, swallowing back the bile that rose in my throat. “She’s so careful.”
“That’s all you’ve eaten today,” he replied with a sigh. “Maybe it’s a virus?”
“I don’t know,” I ground out, laying my head on my arms. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah.” He sat down behind me and began rubbing my back. “I think food poisoning goes away once whatever’s making you sick is gone. A virus could last a lot longer.”
“Great,” I whined, tears threatening as I swallowed again.
“You’re going to get dehydrated,” he said, reaching for the bottle of water he’d put on the floor next to me. “Have a drink.”
“I’ll just throw it up,” I said, not even bothering to take it from his hand.
“Come on, baby,” he tried again, wiggling the bottle from side to side. “Just one small sip.”
I knew before I took it from his hand that the water was going to come right back up, but I couldn’t stand the worry in his voice, so I let him uncap the bottle. I rolled a tiny amount of water around in my mouth for a minute, hoping that somehow it would keep me from gagging as I swallowed it. That didn’t work. Less than a minute after I’d let the cool water run down my throat, I was heaving, bringing it all back up again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding my hair back. “We’ll try again later, okay?”
Later came and went, and I was still vomiting. By midnight, I was completely drained and lying on the bathroom floor.
“Okay, we’re going to the hospital,” Alex announced, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he entered the bathroom.
“Were you looking things up on the internet?” I asked groggily. “You know those doctor websites always make it seem worse than it is.”
“Nope,” he replied, leaning down to lift me off the floor. “I called my mom.”
“Alex,” I whined. Ugh, I wasn’t a whiner, but the situation definitely called for it. “Why would you do that? Now she’s going to be worried.”
“Because I knew she’d know what to do.”
“We don’t need to go to the hospital,” I argued as he sat me on the edge of the bed.
“You’re dehydrated, and you can’t keep any water down,” he said, pulling one of his sweatshirts over my head. “Maybe they can give you an IV.”
“I don’t want an IV,” I replied, pushing my arms through the sleeves.
“Too bad,” he muttered, sliding socks and my new rain boots onto my feet. “Let’s go.”
All the movement had made my stomach start churning again, so I froze and started shaking my head slowly from side to side.
“I got you covered,” he said, pulling me gently to my feet. He handed me a plastic container to vomit in, and I felt my face heat in embarrassment. This was an all-time low.
I didn’t start heaving until we were in the truck on our way to the hospital. Thankfully, there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up, so the plastic container was still empty by the time we pulled into the parking lot. I’d take the pain of dry heaving over the smell of vomit filling the cab of his truck any day.
It took a while to get me checked in and even longer for us to be escorted into a little room, but it didn’t take long for a doctor to come in and check me out.
“How are we doing?” he asked, looking down at a clipboard as he stopped at the foot of my bed. “I’m Dr. Landry.”
“Hi,” I mumbled, curled up on my side in the sterile bed.
“She’s been puking since this afternoon,” Alex said, his knee bouncing up and down nervously. “She can’t even keep any water down.”
“Small sips?” the doctor asked.
“Tiny ones,” I clarified.
“Okay.” The doctor came over and pressed gently on my stomach, looking for tenderness, but beyond the soreness of my abs from throwing up, nothing hurt.
“Might just be a virus,” the doctor said, making me look pointedly at Alex. “But I’m going to run a couple of tests just to make sure. When was your last menstrual cycle? Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “I have an IUD. I haven’t had a period in a long time.”
“We’ll check just to make sure,” he said, smiling. “Okay?”