Published by admin on 12 Dec 2009 at 11:56 am
When my sister and I were kids and we’d get the stomach flu, my mom would pull out the spaghetti pot, the biggest pot in her culinary repertoire, for us to barf in. We would get better and the pot would get washed out and eventually put back on the stove filled with water for spaghetti nights and we’d all collectively forget that one of us had been using it as a bile bucket.
I made a big mistake the other night, only partly my own fault. As you’ve probably read I’ve been having some issues with my pee hole. I’ve peed in lots of cups. I’ve been declared bacteria and STD free and yet, still the horrible sensation of having a UTI. It comes and goes, and this is what puzzles the doctors. Yet, they still give me antibiotics just in case. My gyno, who I love, gave me a single does of Flagyl to take to try to knock it out once and for all. I didn’t take it that night because you’re supposed to take it with food, and I stumbled through the weekend waiting for my test results to come back. They came back on Wednesday but one of the tests she said she would do hadn’t been done, so I thought, fuck it I’ll just take the damned antibiotic. This was after a meal and two glasses of wine.
Cut to 4 hours later when the vomiting started. And kept going for 6 hours. With 15 minute rest breaks in between violent upheaval of broccolini and chicken breast and an Eggo waffle. And two glasses of my favorite rose. Seth got so worried that he called my doctor’s office, got the on call doctor to call in a prescription at 4:30am for an anti-nausea drug. If you’ve never taken one you won’t know that, um, you don’t swallow it. At least not with your mouth… Yeah! Fun for the whole family! I took it (mmhmm… up the butt) and it had no effect.
By this point I had given up on yakking into the toilet. My bathroom is always freezing and I was going into flop sweats after every heave, so I moved to the guest room with Seth on the couch near-by to listen to my incredibly loud wretching. Lula laid next to me, worried. I hugged a spaghetti pot. At one point Seth took the pot to empty and wash it out, and returned it smelling of Palmolive. I handed the pot back to him after a vomit spell and asked him if he minded rinsing out the soap smell, it was making me nauseous. Which, funny, right?
I finally fell asleep at about 8:30am, woke up and heaved the last tiny bit of bile left in my stomach and fell asleep.
So… apparently what no one told me other than in passing was, if you take Flagyl with any alcohol, you’re going to get violently ill. It’s um… stupid to take antibiotics with alcohol anyway, but I didn’t really think about it because I’ve been on antibiotics before without any trouble. Granted, I usually waited until the course was almost done, and I read somewhere that alcohol really has no effect on their ability to kill bacteria. Which, might have been written somewhere like the New York Times, or, it might have been written on some non-doctor’s blog. I don’t know. Don’t judge me, I’ve got mental problems. Also, I am retarded. Yes, I am a total fucking moron, but come on, shouldn’t someone say when they’re giving you this drug, DUDE, YOU WILL WISH YOU WERE DEAD if you take this pill with alcohol. It mimics the affects of the drug they give to alcoholics to keep them from drinking. Guess who’s glad she’s not an alcoholic! Also, guess who hasn’t been drinking! Yeah, haven’t had a drop since that night. Not planning on having any drops until this whole thing is resolved. One thing though, there’s nothing like pain to make a girl want to drink. Mental or otherwise.
So, short story long, I have an appointment with a urologist. I’m reasonably sure this is only something old men do, have urology appointments. But whatever, man, I need my sex life back.
Also, I feel no shame about washing out my bile bucket/spaghetti pot, putting it back in the cupboard and serving chicken and dumplings out of it when my boyfriend’s kids come to town. Because that’s what family is all about, the collective mis-remembering of the alternate uses for a spaghetti pot.
(How awesome would it be to actually have a picture of me being bathed in a spaghetti pot, goddamn my parents for not doing that. So irritating.)
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