Oh. Right.

The appointment on Friday saw me hospitalized for jaundice. I got better on Tuesday. Life goes on.

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.

More reveries from slumberland

Today hit me kind of hard. There was the American Government class, which is aksumg me for a debate paper in a week on whether or not the war in Iraq was justified. There was acting, which never really hits me hard, but involved running around today, and I have the cardiovascular capability of a chain-smoking obese 12 year-old (oddly enough, this becomes an invalid when I'm dancing). And then I was hit by German, in which I have an assignment to now hand in late, and an assignment due on Friday, but this is still manageable. Then there's the wonderful hour of today that was macroeconomics. You know you're paying enough for college when you learn two days before the 3-5 page paper is due that you have a 3-5 page paper to write. Yes, I probably should have foreseen this kind ofthing coming, what with my having been at a faculty-excused drama conference the day it was assigned and Septober's natural ability to screw with my perception of what is utter bullcrap, but my life just wouldn't be interesting were it not for the self-inflicted pain I suffer.

But I have evidence to support my belief that this, too, is manageable. The one thing I don't know is manageable or not is something that one would expect to be abundantly manageable: my own body. Notwithstanding the incredible cinnamon-flavored fiber cookies it's had me discover, my GI tract is still my mustachioed enemy in this, the melodrama that is my life (hooray, that came out incredibly emo) (as a courtesy, I now take the time to remind my readers that melodramas are actually comedies). So I am off to the doctor's office tomorrow, that I may hope to bring the resurfaced threesies to an end once and for all.

The funny thing is that when you consider that this is my own body rebelling against me, this, too, is self-inflicted pain. And believe me, you can call TMI as often as you want, it's still not even close hearing it as it is experiencing it firsthand.

Tomorrow might be good. Here's to the night.

Goodness, I feel miserable.

My feeling miserable has nothing to do with that.  I just like it for its stupidity.

No, I feel terrible because I have a headache, I'm having hot flashes (which the hoodie seems to have a dissipating effect on, ironically), and I had threesies on the toilet five times today.  I know, it's an uncomfortable thought, but more uncomfortable is having to deal with it.

I went to the doctor's office today, for three reasons: first, my toenail, which was ingrown at the end of last semester, cut out, and is now growing in... ingrown.  Second, the threesies.  And third, these incredibly frequent bouts of dizziness I've been having recently, which have usually been accompanied by a headache in some region of my skull, and was disturbingly close to my brain stem yesterday.  The doctor gave me a prescription for antibiotics for the toenail, and told me that the dizziness couldn't be resolved until we got the toenail and the threesies under control.  I feel like that makes sense, since an infection can affect every part of your body, and dehydration can lead to a vast array of noggin-related symptoms.  So tomorrow I go to get that prescription filled out, and I get everything else straightened out, too.

Oh, and my iPod had better be here, if FedEx knows what's good for it.