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There's nothing as disgusting as a slug.

"Are you insane?" I asked

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Alex asked from the other side of the door.

No, not really. I did not want the answer he wanted to give me. I flushed the toilet and slid to the floor because toilets seem to have some type of comfort.

I was already drifting off to sleep when a knock woke me up and I remembered that I was supposed to be going to the hospital.

"I know you fell asleep in there," Alex said moving out of the way for me.

I was walking out of the house eating a banana I had dipped in peanut butter when I felt the food rise up my throat and I gagged.

"Stay back!" I shouted at Alex as I held in my nausea and pointed to the ground.

The slug that was three meters away the last time I saw it, managed to crawl to the front door. Aren't slugs like the slowest creatures in the world? But why do they super speed when we are not watching?

"Oh, that slug? I thought it was the food you've been eating." He said picking a stick to push the slug away.

Watching him reminded me of a Swahili proverb, "usimtupe jongoo na mti wake" which translates to don't throw the millipede with its stick and I burst out in laughter. It was not funny, it really is not funny but I just found it funny. But the site of Alex throwing the slug away with its stick as the proverb crossed my mind was funny.

The journey to the hospital was short because I was so anxious and had this feeling not quite in my stomach but somewhere in me. Something like butterflies in my stomach, only the opposite.

"Is everything alright? Do I need to be worried? Is there a problem?" I asked snatching my results from the lab assistant who called my name.

He smiled and told me that everything was perfect and I had nothing to be afraid of.

Of course I still kept asking him questions one after the other when I could just look at my results and Google anything foreign.

"Relax, you have nothing to worry about and your doctor will explain the results," he said finally getting away from me.

I brushed through my results not understanding them then walking over to Alex in the waiting area.

"I'm going home," I said to him and walked over to his car.

"Aren't you supposed to be taking those results to your doctor?" He asked

"Not anymore, the lab assistant said there's nothing to worry about so I don't think I need to see my doctor." I replied fastening my seatbelt.

"I sure have gained weight," I said to nobody in particular as I pulled the seat belt further across my body.

"As a matter of fact, I'm going to start living healthy. Please drive me to the market?" I asked Alex.

Now that I'm not on my deathbed and Google was wrong with His diagnosis, I will take that death scare as a lesson to live well.

And so I did.

I bought vegetables and fruits, started drinking a lot of water, did thirty minute work outs five days a week, slept by 10pm and woke up at 5 am. I even stopped missing classes and living like as if Chris was my oxygen supply.

I did that religiously for two weeks until one day, I ended up in the sanatorium.

Apparently, I had pushed myself too much.