I'm slowly recovering after one hell of a wild night.
Yesterday, I spent the day with friends jumping off a dock and generally having a great time. Then, to top it all off, we headed over to a restaurant and had quite possibly the worst service I've ever had at a restaurant.
Ironically, the waiter started off after taking our orders telling us how well he could read his own writing. He then proceeded to screw EVERYTHING up. He screwed up the drink order. He screwed up the entree order. He screwed up the dessert order. It was unbelievable!! And above all, I think he tried to kill me.
Getting home, it didn't take long for me to get violently ill and start puking my entire guts out. Seriously. All of them. I don't think I've ever puked that much in my entire life and just when I'd think it was over, I'd go through it all over again.
So what did I do? Did I rush myself off to the hospital to get some doctor to tell me I was sick?
My wife called Telehealth Ontario and they basically told her to tell me to quit being such a pussy and walk it off. Hell, they even told her to stop giving me any medication! "Just let him puke. It's good for him." It seems I've got food poisoning and this is about the best thing to do about it.
Now THIS is a service I don't mind my tax dollars going to!! If more people would call them up rather than rushing to the nearest doctor and costing our health system thousands of dollars, we'd all be better off!
So here I am… nearly 24 hours later… and all I've eaten is a slice of bread and half a banana… and I seem to be getting better. Looks like the nurse was right. Looks like I'm not dying.
And above all, it looks like I've got the best wife in the world for putting up with it all, bringing a cup of water to my hand every time I wanted to take a sip, slicing a piece of bread into little pieces I could chew on, and just generally putting up with my unshowered, stinky ass through this whole thing.
See? I'm not always complaining. God bless her!