The votes have been tallied: I'm dying.

I was feeling particularly optimistic for the new year until about 8:30 yesterday morning when I spent nearly two hours in the bathroom with the threesies. This was before I had anything to eat.

So far, the new year has seen me going to the toilet on almost if not on an hourly basis, and I am glad to say that I have somehow remained hydrated through it all. Still, the sheer volume of diarrhea I've had since the beginning of the week weighed against the amount of food that I've ingested leads me to believe that I have one of two things. The first option is that I'm infected with malaria, and the second is that my intestines are failing.

Whatever the case may be, I've decided that enough is enough. I'm tired of it actually requiring effort to press the keys on this keyboard, I'm tired of my stomach constantly being in pain, I'm tired of the way my threesies are completely barreling through my family's supply of toilet paper AND moistened wipes, and I'm tired of the way this new Imodium tastes.

I'm setting up an appointment with a doctor on base tomorrow. If God loves me, that doctor will immediately refer me to a better hospital for a same-day appointment.