My Day on The Bay
I was in Bay 17, but I couldn’t help wondering what was happening and who, was in Bay 13. I was pretty desperate for a joke. When things are grim, my fall back is humour, so even on this day, I was wondering, hmm “Lil….ly Lil…..ly”. . . but then it was back to my Bay, and it was a stormy day. The pain gripped me like waves crashing on a surf beach. The froth rolled over my toes and for just a second, there was a feeling of calm and ease, and then I could see another wave coming. The pain was like my intestines being squeezed like a kitchen sponge and all I could do was moan. I sounded a bit like a sick cow in the paddock on the farm, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t help it. The waves kept coming and the pain gripped me again. It was relentless. People were scurrying up and down the corridors, and there was a baby next door who was obviously in a lot of pain too. It’s cry was like The Count on the Muppet Show . . . “Mwaaa Mwaa Mwaa”. I couldn’t help but wonder what the problem was there. So many noises and so many foreign sounds to my usual day: but this was not a usual day.
I had all begun the Sunday before. It was a sunny day, and I’d taken my School Reports, out into the sunshine to do a final check for all the last minute changes. My eyelids kept falling, drooping, wanting to close. It was like magnets wanting to connect, but I knew I had to get this job done, so I pressed on. A couple of times I felt an electric charge as my arms jolted and my body jerked, just on the brink of sleep, and I caught myself into an alert state again. Once again I pressed on, finally reaching the name beginning with W. Relief swept over my body, and I put the pile of papers down, and silently headed for my bed and crept into it. It was about 2.30 in the afternoon.
I awoke a couple of hours later and my head was swimming. I felt nauseous and my tummy felt like it was setting up for some sort of Olympic Tournament. I made a dash for the toilet bowl and thrust my head towards it. I hadn’t had much to eat that day so the contents of my stomach were fairly bare. My stomach convulsed and at the same time, so did my bowels. This was a most vulnerable experience. I felt so helpless and out of control. My body was taking over and my mind no longer had any connection to it. Tears were streaming down my face. Somehow, I managed to clamour up from the floor using the wall for support, and make my way to the shower recess. What I wasn’t expecting was for the same routine to repeat all over again, and again and again. This time, though, I was standing, trapped in an enclosed space. The hot water falling over my body was my only blanket as my body expelled the rubbish from within from every orifice.
I’m not really sure what happened next, and it’s still not over; but I spent a night and a day and a night going through this routine, and I was feeling very weak and extremely sorry for myself. Somehow, I managed the strength to conjure a doctor’s appointment and a ride to town and from there I found myself in Bay 17 in the Emergency Ward at the town hospital.