Life Can Do Terrible Things // Ben Bruce

21. When You Wake Me Up

Be prepared for a long one guys! Fluff and big news in store!

Picture: Brandi Annette

~~SIXTEEN DAYS LATER~~

I am the epitome of death. I think being driven through the crust of the Earth from the depths of hell would be less painful than this. Retching up my guts and heaving them into the toilet bowl is not how I planned on spending my past couple of days. Not only was my stomach, mouth and throat in agony, but my newly pierced septum and my newly tattooed back were too. Last night around 8 when I was feeding Marley, I felt the urge to vomit and here is where I have stayed. I slept with my face smashed against the cold tile floor, only moving to vomit my guts up. I'm severely dehydrated, barely able to keep saliva down let alone sustenance. I rid myself of all my food, now it was either stomach lining, remnants of stomach acid or dry retching. Yummy. The thing is, I don't know what it could possibly be. I didn't eat anything yesterday that could give me food poisoning, I haven't heard of any stomach bugs floating around and I definitely was not hungover. I had such a great day, getting pierced and tattooed by Monique and when I get home, I become violently ill. I hated being sick, I hated it. The worst part of this stomach flu is the embarrassment that ensued when Ben FaceTimed me. I had texted him saying that I wasn't good and he wanted to check on me. We might have been talking for maybe two minutes with my face pressed against the toilet lid before nature called and I vomited on the phone. He saw everything. He acted like he didn't care but I was so embarrassed! It was terrible! To say that that conversation turned awkward is an understatement.

My stomach started to churn as I slipped my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants. I closed my eyes and prayed that there was no more vomit, just a false alarm. Boy was I wrong. I pulled the neck of Ben's Aerosmith jumper down so I didn't puke on it and proceeded to throw up stomach lining into the toilet bowl. When I was finished, I collapsed back onto the floor in an exhausted manner, not caring about my entire body's aching and painful jabbing in my nose and back. Fuck it, I was over this, hospital here I come. I contemplated who I could call who was available. I thought about Demi. I haven't spoken to her January when I went to help Monique move into Danny's place and after our girly shopping trip all together. Demi and I had naturally grown apart but I don't think either of us are sad. Monique and Annie were at work, I wasn't burdening Brittany, so that left Brandi and Jamie. Since Brandi's name was first, she was the first to call. I lazily pressed the loud speaker button so I didn't have to hold the phone.

B- Hey boo, what's up?

I- Please take me to the hospital.

B- Shit! What's gone wrong?

I- I've been vomiting like a dog for the about twelve hours. It's every half hour or less and I'm over it.

B- Alright, don't sweat it. Hang tight and I'll be there in a few. Bye.

I hung up the phone and slipped it back in my pocket as more bile raised up from my throat and into the toilet bowl. Fuck you sickness. I fashioned my hair into a tighter bun and I closed my eyes in waiting for Brandi to save me. The bandages of my new tattoo against the sweater fabric forbade some form of sleep as it was annoying me. Yesterday, Monique completed her second diploma in tattooing and piercing. In celebration, she pierced my septum and tattooed my back. The tattoo was of a large garland of colourful flowers in American Traditional style across the space between my shoulder blades. It's really cute and I love it so much. The only thing I hated was the stinging and the bandage that I had to wear for a couple days. Imagine when I had my two major works done. Guess who didn't wear pants or a shirt for a week (thank God I got those at different times). I showed Ben as soon as they were done and he loves them. Monique is a talented artist, I'm proud of her.