My son has one more class left I'm parked outside waiting for him. Sure wish I had some GasX. Finally my son comes out of the building and gets into the car. "You OK Mom? " I nod and say I'm fine. But the closer we get to home the less fine I feel.
Shit! I pulled the car over and vomited violently into the street splattering my shoes. I heard my son asking if he should call dad but I waved him away. Focus. Just focus. I opened the windows hoping the 30 degree air would bring some relief and clarity. If I drive fast enough Ill be able to make it home. Then I can take my time on the toilet and relieve this mounting pain in my stomach. As we pulled into the driveway I put the car in park and stumbled up the steps to my front door. The second the front door is open I am staggering up the steps to the bathroom. Thank God I got to the toilet. A salty taste rimmed my guns again and I vomited on the floor. Why aren't I feeling any relief when I'm shitting out of one end and puking out of the other??! Something is wrong. My stomach ...its tearing I think. Oh my God, is it tearing!
I am dry heaving in uncontrollable waves. Over and over I retched watching the pool of green bile pool on the bathroom floor. I stood up and leaned on the sink vomiting all the while. Wait! I keep thinking. Wait, I can't breathe! 'My knees buckled and found myself on the floor hanging over the toilet bowl. I kept moving, changing position, even though I couldn't. I need to get away from this pain. What if I stand? What if I sit ? What if I....lay. I'm sprawled out on the bathroom floor as the never ending bile continues to burst out of me. I start praying because i don't know what else to do. Please God. Please God Please God. Help me. Help me! I can't. I cannot do this. I know for sure I cannot. By now my innards have been torn to shreds and the violent retching is coming even faster and I wonder how much bile could one person have?!?! Again and again, one after the other after the other. I'm not breathing. There's no space for me to breathe.
I sense some activity going on in the bathroom. My husband calling 911. No!!! Don't call! I will never survive the motion sickness of riding in the ambulance. The floor tiles are so cold on my cheek. At least there's that. Suddenly there's more tearing...Am I having contractions? Yes. I'm having contractions. And all I can think of to do is pray. 'Please God kill me,' I chant over and over again. 'Please God kill me, Kill me, Kill me'. And then there are hands on me...people are in my bathroom. I know they are asking me things but I'm already dead so I can't answer. But if I'm dead how in the fuck can I still feel pain? I read somewhere that when the body is traumatized by pain it automatically anesthatizes itself to cope. I am here to tell you that's complete bullshit!
I hope they hear me. Kill me. They want to know my name. Kill me. They want to know how i feel. Kill me is all I can think of or hope for. Its all i want. I don't need help. Its too late for that. I wonder absently when it is that my mind will break? There are levels of pain and this is one that tops the pain by which I measure all pain against...being in labor. There's so much activity going on around me. Sounds like people are strategizing. I feel the dull thud of alarm in the back of my mind....omg this must be scaring the shit out of my son...someone get him out of here...don't let him see! Kill me. I close my eyes and feel the warm trickle of saliva running down my cheek and into my ear. What is taking God so long?? I would think killing someone should be alot easier than saving someone. Its dark and I feel cold. Am I dead yet? No. And my stomach is still contracting and my brain is in awe of what the body is actually able to endure. I'm perplexed by this. I am the one feeling this pain. I am the one gasping for air in between retches so I KNOW this level of agony is untenable. This must be a dream because no human being is capable of withstanding this agony. Sharp things inside me claw at my innards using its teeth to eat my insides. I am ignoring the things that are going on around me because all of my senses are fully engaged in suffering. The more I can't take the more that comes. My body won't die. My brain won't die. I'm stuck here. I know I am no longer on my bathroom floor bu tI can't open my eyes. I feel the warm gush of my bowels letting loose. The stomach pain that follows is exquisite and perfect in its horror. Its all very surreal, staged, not credible. There's no pain like this in the world. Its not possible...you think too big I scold myself. Naturally this level of agony cannot be real because no one would be able to survive it. Therefore, it is NOT real. I close my eyes to it. Again I wonder how its possible that I haven't broken and then mercifully the shades are drawn and I am no longer here.
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