Yeh, so I'm home

I won't go on about the stomach thing too much. I was brought home with the school's plastic sickie basin in my lap by the school secretary. It was justified, and not just my overactive imagination playing with me, as it was coming out both ends. I actually wrote a long and detailed account of what happened to me today -- some really good stuff, if you ask me. Just about to publish it, but I pushed the wrong button and it disappeared. My mind was so addled that I couldn't figure out what to do to get the posting back and when I finally figured it out, it was lost forever. Actually, that was probably a good thing, as it was really graphic and I used the word 'shit', in all it's variations, way too many times.

Don't know about work tomorrow either, cos, even though I'm not puking, my stomach is really hurts. I'm still belching up my dinner from last night -- eggs with brie and bacon, sprinkled with some garlic powder. I've been put off it forever. The pain I feel reminds me of the the stomach virus I had in my junior year. It took a whole night of sleeping on a chair in the living room for my parents to take me to the doctor's. I was just watching Chris Rock's Bigger and Blacker DVD (waiting for the ice skating to come on) today and I was just reminded of my first stomach incident in 11th grade by part of his act.

"You have to be damn near dead for my dad to take me to the hospital," CR said, on his DVD. "We didn't go to the doctor. We had Robitussin. 'My asthma's acting up.' -- 'Robitussin.' 'I've got cancer.' -- 'Robitussin.' 'I broke my leg.' -- 'Pour it on in there. Yeh, let the 'Tussin get all in there.'"

For my father, the cure-all was Vicks VapoRub. Hideous stuff. When we had a cold, it was slathered on our poor little chest and on our upper lip. Amah allowed my father believe that Vicks VapoRub was this generation's Holy Grail, to the detriment of our noses. And don't let him see you wipe it off! Shoot, you'd get double. Thankfully, amah did draw the line when he wanted us to, oddly, ingest the stuff. ('Let that VapoRub get right on in there.') Good ol' ma.

Well, my panacea is Lucozade Sport. Orange flavoured. Not Lucozade Energy, which Boy purchased for me that last time I had a stomach thing. The Energy version is fizzy, which irritates my throat. When I realised the Boy was not going to get home any time soon with it, I trudged over to the corner shop and purchased two bottles of the Sport variety, pitifully counting out the last of my change in my purse to the man on the till. I've already guzzled the first one, with grateful enthusiam. Yes children, everything will be all right. Lucozade Sport, orange flavoured, will see to that.

LEARN TO TALK BRITISH!

Don't say: "Someone's left some vomit (or throw up, or puke) in the toilet."
Do say: "Someone's left some sick in the toilet."

Don't say: "I feel sick."
Do say: "I feel ill."

Don't say: "I don't want a carbonated drink."
Do say: "I don't want a fizzy drink."

Don't say: "Go to the cash register to pay."
Do say: "Go to the till to pay."