A Fitting But Unpleasant End

I know, I know, I’ve kept on saying this many times here before: this is my last damn trip for this current assignment / job. Now, I know for certain that it is. Just because I say so. A few posts back I made some notes about my recent trip to Arizona for a design review, and yes, this will be my last Army business travel until I come back from Afghanistan. No, really, it will.

I had to do a conclusion for the trip, because it was so fucking epic. Mind you, this is not for the faint of heart. Anyway, my week-long trip finally wound up last Friday, which was spent entirely doing nothing but travelling. For some reason, you cannot get from Point A to Point B by air in this country without stopping in Point Layover. I have no idea why, and that is precisely why all my Army business travel takes a full day to go and another to come home from wherever I have gone.

Perhaps the best format for this is a timeline of Friday:

  • 0445 MST: Awakened by own bowels to critical colonic explosive evacuation, a.k.a, ‘pissing from ass.’
  • 0530 MST: Second colonic explosive evacuation / PFA.
  • 0615 MST: Projectile vomiting with full-body sweating.
  • 0620-0750 MST: Power nap.
  • 0800-1000 MST: Navigate dizzily to Phoenix airport, check in, do the TSA thing, and wait – sipping water – until boarding.
  • 1000-1200 MST/CST: Airplane coma.
  • 1200-1830 CST: Sit in varying states of consciousness in Houston airport. Soft pretzel consumed. Soft pretzel evacuated. Two Gatorades sipped – slowly – to rehydrate. Half-consciously monitor delayed flight data due to thunderstorm.
  • 1830-2000 CST: Boarding of delayed flight. Sitting in airplane coma while thunderstorm continues to rage. No concern wasted. Coma.
  • 2000-2130 CST: Flight from Houston to KC. Airplane coma.
  • 2130-2200 CST: Collect baggage, ride economy parking bus, walk to car on shaky legs, manage to navigate home.
  • 2230 CST: Final bed coma.

Of course, only when this kind of viral and/or bacterial assault is going on do I experience an epic layover. Needless to say, I was not very entertaining at any point along the way home. I take small comfort in the knowledge that I probably infected everyone else on both airplanes during my flights. That and the fact that I managed to not shit myself silly in public, or have to attempt to use the unusable airplane bathrooms for any epic events.

I chalk this up to fucked up food preparation – who can you trust? Either that, or a stomach virus. Either way, it doesn’t matter since I am now – writing this on Saturday afternoon – enjoying a replay of my Osama’s Revenge experience during my last tour in Afghanistan. I only pray this doesn’t continue for another two weeks like that one did. As of this writing, I am attempting a reverse beer enema: pouring beer through me in the hope of the alcohol content killing whatever is making my life so wonderful right now. As of this posting, it apparently worked.

Then again, this is an effective weight-loss strategy.

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32 Responses to “A Fitting But Unpleasant End”

  1. Jesus… this sounds like epic suckville. I have been this sick, but never this sick on an airplane… so I have to say, “you poor thing!”

    Hope the beer enema went according to plan.

  2. Oh man, as if the stress of it all weren’t enough…

  3. whiteladyinthehood Says:

    Oh man…I never hardly get sick…that sounded awful…at least you were smart enough to get some Gatorade and try to rehydrate….as for the alcohol content killing out the virus…hhmmm…

  4. Ah, yes. ‘Pissing from ass.’
    Sting ring.
    Ring of fire.
    Mudbutt.
    None of the above are what you want to be going through when strapped into a metal box miles above the Earth.
    You poor bastard.

  5. I can’t think of a worse place to be sick than an airport/airplane! I hope your beer method works!

  6. I bet your ab’s are really defined now. Gin will kill that bug faster than beer.

  7. “Airplane coma”. what an excellent description and applicable to any transport method.

  8. Christ almighty, I’m sorry for ya, bru. Turns out I had a similar G/I hell to contend with this weekend. Hope it’s not in the water. I tried to kill mine off with some Jack Daniels and old “A-Team” episodes.

  9. Man, that is suckage of significant proportions! And you obviously are not lucky – the last time I was that epically sick around an airplane, I found my wife. Ah yes, there is nothing more romantic than barfing all morning into your wife-to-be’s toilet. 😀
    Personally, I think you need stronger medicine. 90 proof, minimum. 😉

  10. Oopsie, sorry I talked you into scarfing an extra burger for me before you left. I guess it gives new literal meaning to “In & Out Burgers.” Who knew?

  11. Oh, You poor thing. Could you manage to carry the infection to A? If Al Qaeda get the runs, they might have to vacate some caves. Easier shots when they’re squatting. Speaking of shots, I now know why you are my hero. An M9, AND an M1911??! Please send me photos, but do it quietly. The government has convinced the sheep that they don’t like guns. I had to settle for a knife show today.

  12. You have such a lovely way with words….
    Glad you’re on the upside! Beer really works, huh?

  13. I would have just liked this, but I thought you might think me mean for liking your agony. So let me just say I’m sad you felt bad, but I liked the way you humorously described it .
    Sloe Gin & 7 would have worked great! With the added bonus of being a “panty remover” so you wouldn’t have pesky underwear to get in your way during an explosion.

  14. They don’t call them “In & Out” burgers for nothing! 😆

    Feel better!

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