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“Oh shit!” I leap from the bed and barely make it to the bathroom before I lose everything I’ve eaten for the last three days. Or at least that’s what it feels like.
Weak, shaking, I lie with my blazing cheek lying on the cool tile floor. My head still feels like if I lift it, the room will tilt and I’ll lose anything left on my belly.
Covering my eyes with a cool cloth that I reach up and grab and wet, trying to move as little as possible, I sink back to the ground. After five minutes to steady myself, I weave like a drunk person into my bedroom.
I call the answering service and leave a message for Dr. Knight that I won’t be in today. I’ve apparently caught a flu. Then I collapse onto the bed, the nausea building again.
“Oh my god, just let me die from this.” I curl up into a ball and let my aching head and body rest, sighing and slipping back to sleep.
Hours later I wake to sunlight streaming in through my drawn curtains and I shut my eyes, groaning.
I sit up slowly and immediately clutch my aching belly. “Oh shit!” I run for the bathroom again, this time dry heaving painfully until I finally fall to the tile again, tears streaming down my face.
I check the time and realize it’s two o’clock in the afternoon and I won’t be able to go in tomorrow either.
I call the office and leave another message that I can’t make it tomorrow either. Then I turn off my phone and crawl painfully back into my cool sheets.
Closing my eyes I let myself sink into an uneasy sleep again. By the time I wake again, it’s night-time and I’m starving, my stomach feeling like it’s trying to turn itself inside out.
I stand slowly, letting my head settle before I step out to the bathroom. Quick pee and brush my fuzzy teeth and I’m staggering sleepily out to the kitchen to find something to eat.
But as soon as I start cooking scrambled eggs, the nausea rises again and I jog back to the bathroom, seconds before the dry heaves hit again.
Shaking, I lean against the cool porcelain, struggling to control the dizziness.
After a full five minutes rest, I stand and drag myself to the kitchen. I toss the ruined eggs into the trash and take it out, the smell making my stomach lurch again.
Then I grab some saltines and clear pop. Not the healthiest meal but maybe it will settle my stomach.
I slog back to bed, exhausted and fall into the cool sheets, immediately slipping into a deep, restless sleep.
The next morning the same thing happens again. Only since I’ve got next to nothing on my stomach, the weakness gets to me worse. My head reels and my body feels weightless.
I call 911, feeling that cold feeling sliding over me. “Aspen Bluffs Emergency. How may we help you?” The calm voice settles me but I still only manage to gasp out, “I’m sick. I don’t feel right. I need help.”
And then I slide back under.
“Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you okay? Hey, come on, wake up! Let’s get an IV in and get her some fluids. Maybe that will get her to come around.” A light shines in my eyes and I groan, but can’t make the words come out.
My head’s a jumbled mess.
“We’ve got you. We’re gonna take you to the hospital.”
“Not clinic,” I whimper. I don’t want Dr. Knight to treat me. I just want the anonymity of a nice, quiet hospital.
“That’s right. We’re taking you to General. Just stay still. We’ve got you.” His calm, quiet voice and demeanor sets me at ease and I slip back under.
“Poppy? Are you awake in there?” Spring’s voice wakes me later.
“Spring?” I croak. “What are you doing here?” I look around and sit up, my body protesting the movement. “Where am I?”
“The hospital.” She sits in the chair beside the bed. “You’ve been out of it for two days. Not including however long you were sick at your house without letting anybody know.”
I sink back, covering my mouth. “You shouldn’t be near me. You’re due any day now!”
She shakes her head. “They said you’re not sick so I can visit. I made sure to ask.” She rolls her pretty eyes. “Trust me, Clay was most insistent on checking.”
My forehead creases, my head still foggy with sleep. “Then what’s wrong with me?”
