Stomach
aches, low-level nausea, and I go way back. Way, way back to when
I was but a wee lass. I think I inherited it from my dad, he of the famed
unstable intestinal tract. I go to the doctor periodically and they tell me to
take Prilosec,or
they tell me that I suffer from gastritis and that I should go on the god-awful
BRAT diet,
or that I need to consume more fiber, blah blah blah, crap that doesn’t really
work because more days than not I am doubled up in pain, wanting to throw up
all over my desk/couch/bed. I soldier through the tough moments thanks to a
cocktail of Pepto-Bismol, Tums, seltzer, lukewarm ginger ale, and toasted
whole-wheat bread but man, it still sucks.
This
latest bout of stomach-aches and nausea has been going on for more than three
weeks now, and my husband has just about had enough with my complaining. Yesterday,
in the midst of another epic complaint session wherein I blamed the mini
tootsie roll (wait – do they come in other sizes?) for my latest stomach ache,
Kim Jong-Illmatic hissed at me that I needed to make an appointment with the
doctor already because it’s not normal when your stomach hurts for three weeks
straight, and besides, didn’t my mother also tell me to go to the
doctor? (He knows I am terrified of my mother – in a very loving way – and will
usually do anything she commands).
Well!
That wasn't very supportive now, was it? Immediately after I hung up the phone
on him as he was calling me "exasperating" (me? exasperating?
never!), I sent him an email - complete with visual aids - calling him out on
his callous treatment of me in my delicate condition. Behold:
From: Chommo
To: Kim Jong-Illmatic
RE: Why are you so mean to me?
When I feel like this?
****************************************************************
From: Kim Jong-Illmatic
To: Chommo
RE:RE: Why are you so mean to me?
Great picture. You are retarded. Seriously, if I complained of the exact same pain, day after day, for nearly 1 month, wouldn't you tell me to go to a doctor? I'm not being mean, so grow up. Make an appointment with the doctor, but it's probably just your gastritis acting up.
But I lurve complaining. It's my life force.
For the record, he's
totally right and I do need to make an appointment with my doctor - if
only to confirm that I am not in danger of becoming one of the featured idiots
on the Discovery Health channel’s I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.
But I swear to God if all they tell me to eat is bananas, rice, applesauce and toast, I might have to do like Wayne Brady and cut a bitch.
© Chommo, 2009.