Up with People Who Upchuck

December 7, 2008 at 4:00 pm Leave a comment

I’ve been weakly but effectively gathering intelligence on this virulent stomach flu I have, and it doesn’t look pretty.

More accurately this affliction is called epidemic viral gastroenteritis or winter vomiting disease. (What a lovely picture that last term brings to mind. Too bad it doesn’t show up in the spring, when one could heave among tulips and daffodils.)

I’ve only had WVD (attention, drug companies-your ad here!) once in my adult life. (Kids expel everything all the time. I suspect it’s from dipping chicken fingers in Nerds.) It was only a few weeks after  I got married. But rather than bring me Pink Bismuth (I only buy generics) my husband brought me something else pink and decidedly less liquid. I’m no Freud,(though I’ve had enough therapy to go into practice with him) but I can tell something is twisted when a man finds the sight of his woman alternatively
vomiting and lying on the cool tile of the bathroom floor arousing. He still does. Just yesterday, while I was weak and bedridden, he brought me some broth and said, “you really turn me on when you’re sick.” Is this a bona fide fetish? Is “Sick Girls” gathering dust on some newsstand?

Then there was 1978. I
was going to school at the University of Arizona, and my friend Carol’s
parents drove us to Las Vegas. We all shared a hotel room, and were
getting ready to go to the Gals with Feathers in their Heads when it hit me. Four hours of sitting on the toilet with my head
in the sink later, I realized that 25 cent shrimp cocktails weren’t all
they’re cracked up to be. OK. I lied. That one was actually food poisoning. Props to bacterial gastroenteritis or Vegas Vomiting Disease.

But in both instances, my malady did not come in bulk-no one else shared it with me. But this time it’s different.

Everyone I know who is winter vomiting is a woman! My neighbors, friends, the kids at school-all the victims are female! Not one man known to man has caught WVD, and I immediately grew suspect.

Dave, I think that men are implanting chips in our heads, or some strange molecule or they’ve shrunk aliens and injected them into women’s bodies- and the side effect is this virus.
You’re crazy.

That’s what they say in those movies where we’re being attacked internally and only one person knows the truth.

What the hell are you talking about?

The virus. Don’t you see? Only women are getting it. Men are putting something in us, except even their advanced medical technology couldn’t pull it off flawlessly-so that’s why we’re getting sick-it’s a side effect-not a natural illness.

Maybe it’s a no-nag chip.

That not funny. For all I know, you’re one of the guys that’s trying to control women with this throw-up virus thing.

What’d ya say? I wasn’t paying attention.

The story doesn’t end here. The investigation will continue once I stop hurling. Meantime, if you have any information, send it to me anonymously at roberta@robertagale.com.

Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

Sorta Like a Woman The Sky is Falling- Please Hold

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed

Roberta Gale

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

%d bloggers like this: