I’m drinking a hot cup of beef bullion and there’s nothing better. Still today, I’ve been mostly unable to eat. Shorts that were too tight two weeks ago are sliding off my waist. I’d been losing some weight, but that process accelerates quickly when you go from a 2,500 calorie per day diet to fewer than 500 calories in 3 days, plus rapid dehydration. I’ve also developed a headache and some irritability, likely due to the fact that I haven’t been able to drink coffee since Monday and I’m going through withdrawal.
Late in the afternoon I finally attempted a meal. I went in search of a banana. I settled for a fish basket; breaded grouper and fries. Grouper has a great texture and it’s the default fish down here. I finished about a third of it and felt full. My stomach is a sad, shriveled sack, devoid of food joy.
New neighbors pulled in, and lo, they are from Bemidji, MN. They had a stereotypical up-north accent. I’ve felt like such shit the last few days that I haven’t talked to anyone, and I didn’t ask them any questions. Being sick sucks out the joy of life. Even reading books, my favorite thing to do, has had no appeal to me for a couple days. When you’re at a campground, people are usually on vacation, so they’re in a good mood, looking to chat, making eye contact. On short walks, mostly to the bathroom, I’ve kept my eyes down because everything is too much effort. I would be a terrible candidate for chronic illness, because I am weak and would give up.
But I’m on the mend. It’s a few hours now after that meal attempt, and my stomach is feeling like it might be ready to return to the world of the living/eating that which was once alive. And I will follow my stomach wherever it may lead.
A consolation of the past few days is that Minnesota has gotten over a foot of snow, and it’s cold. It helps to know that others are also suffering.
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