Puking Pastimes

When most people think of sickness, they think about colds. You know the typical runny nose, feet in hot water and wrapped up in a blanket. This is the first picture, at least in my minds eye, when I hear, "I'm feeling sick."

What you generally don't picture is yourself huddled in a heap on the restroom floor, vomiting your kidneys out your mouth. In general kidneys should not be seen, much less hurled out of your body at mach 2 where they then adhere to the bathroom walls. It is after something like this happens that you begin to say to yourself, "I think I might be sick." Right before you pass out with your head resting comfortably on the toilet.

Now I believe that I'm standing with the majority of the male sex, when I say, "I hardly ever get sick." I believe that many men believe this. It offends us to pretend that we fall victim to illness as easy as the 'weaker sex' does. At the very least we want to believe that it takes us less time to convalesce than our female counterparts.

I mean to say, what is the point of being male if it doesn't come with some advantages? So when I found that I indeed had the same illness I that I had witnessed my wife and two daughters endure the night before, I wept. I did so silently, so as no one would hear me.

It was a long night last night, that didn't really end until about 3:30 this morning. I'm feeling better. How could I not be. Currently I'm sitting at my desk, typing, instead of peering into the shiny reflection of my distorted features at the bottom of a porcelain bowl. I would be hard pressed not to be feeling better. Sure I'm a little queasy still, and I'm sure I be avoiding any food that isn't labeled "nasty salty watered down soup", but at least the worst is over. And in a few days time I can once again pick up my manly mantle and proclaim to the world, who is none the wiser.

"Me? I never get sick."