Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. Everything is a diary.
-Chuck Pahlaniuk Diary:A Novel

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Untimely Stomach Bug

Remember that stomach virus that nearly thwarted and severely damped our New Year's plans? Well, Lyman was infected with yet another stomach bug over the weekend and not to be outdone this one threatened to ruin Milo's second birthday party which we had been planning for weeks.

Last week was crazy, I think every day I had a double: rehearsal-gig, lesson-gig, session-gig, etc. By Friday I knew something wasn't right but I soldiered through my recording session and gig (which btw was playing music for an African-American History Month party at a retirement home ... more fun than it sounds) and that night I was a wreck; bad fever, chills, and the usual ailments that accompany trips to the bathroom trying to expel an intestinal virus (I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks). Saturday I was even worse leaving my poor wife to plan for the party, shop for the food, ice the cake (beautifully I might add), and get her hair did all by herself. So three cheers for Carrie! When they left for the party I was too exhausted to go with them. Luckily I was able to muster enough energy to shower and get to there to catch the second half. I'm glad I made it because the party was a lot of fun and Milo had a great time. By the time I got home I was really worn out. To top it off I had to drive to Palm Springs (2.5 hrs.) Sunday for a gig with Tyrell! Luckily they got a hotel room for me so I didn't have to drive back that night and I was able to crash right after the performance.

From Friday night to Monday night I didn't eat one meal, only dry toast and rice (neither of which sat well). I've been feeling better today so I tried some chicken soup for dinner, hopefully things will be cool.

If you're keeping track in the span of a year-and-a-half that's food poisening from bad clams in Manhattan, two debilitating Holiday stomach viruses in Indiana, and my most recent escapade. My digestive system can't catch a break.