Day 44--Sunday, July 20, 2003
When I woke up, there was no sign of life coming from any of my slumbering family members, so I put on my swimsuit and went down to the pool. Dad found me there, reminding me that I was silly to think I would ever be up earlier than him. He sat and read a book while I swam 40 lengths of the pool. My goal was to swim a mile, but the pool was shortly invaded by a large amount of very rowdy kids, which was just as well, since I would have had to swim some obscenely high amount of lengths to reach that goal.
Back in the apartment, I got dried off and dressed quietly, since everyone else was still asleep. I ate a banana while sitting at the kitchen table and working on some things for school. Everyone else dragged themselves out of bed and off to breakfast shortly after I finished eating, so I didn't really have any interest in going.
Ben and I drove into Onekama and got the groceries everyone had requested at the IGA. I made myself creamed ham and turkey for lunch. Ben and Dad went golfing, and Kristin and Carly set off with one mission in mind: to get as dark of tans as possible in one week. I spent my day sunbathing with Diane and Lindsay, reading, and relaxing--a great sensation after our breakneck pace of the past few weeks.
When the boys returned, we all got ready for dinner and drove to the Bear Lake Lodge. I couldn't find anything on the menu that sounded good, and I spent most of the excessive amount of time that we spent waiting for the food emptying my bladder in the restroom. At one point, Kristin came in and said, "Are you just trying to make the food come faster by waiting in the bathroom?" I said, "No, I'm just having a whole lot of humongous poops." She found that to be pretty hilarious and felt the need to repeat it several times when we got back to the table.
Kristin and Carly killed the wait time by making small spitballs out of their straw wrappers and taking turns trying to pitch them down the fronts of each other's shirts. Apparently this is a favorite game of theirs. We all watched with a kind of sick fascination, and the food eventually came. I found that mine didn't look good at all, so I pawned it off on the others and ate some Saltines, thinking I would get more food back at the apartment when my stomach settled a little.
After another trip to the bathroom for me, we dashed to our cars in the pouring rain, and I clutched at my stomach while helping Diane navigate back to the lodge through the pouring rain. When we got there, I made a beeline for the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet, I felt an unmistakable sensation that the past few years had convinced me that I was incapable of feeling. I grabbed the trash can and promptly began throwing up.
When I finished, I cleaned myself up, told everyone what had happened, and crawled into bed. They began a riotous game of Scattergories, and I laid there, wishing only for dark and quiet. Dad and Ben came in to check on me, and somehow the motion upset me. Moments after they left, I had to grab for the trash can again.
This began a long and thoroughly miserable night for me. Lindsay decided to sleep on the couch so Ben could take care of me through the night. All night long, I awoke every 30 to 40 minutes to heave into a trash can and then go sit on the toilet. After a while, nothing was left to come out either way, but that certainly didn't stop my body from trying. Ben sat up with his bedside light on, reading and taking care of me. He tried to keep me hydrated during the night, but it all just came back out. I began to be afraid that the night would never end.
20 / 40