 From left to right: Alex, Nick and Billy with me in the ICU For the majority of August 9th, I was laying in bed, attempting to get comfortable. My stomach had been acting up for the past six months and August 9 was the day when I woke up and knew something wasn't right. First I feel a slight pain around the solar plexus area, then gradually it got worse to the point where the pain level jumped to an 8 or 9.
When this first started happening, I thought it was some bad salad. Then I thought it was the flu, then something I cooked and the last two times, the culprit seemed to have been peanut butter. I have never went to see a doctor about this because I just thought it was food poisoning or something I ate didn't agree with my stomach. On one of the occasions I vomited like never before in my life. Painful, hard core puking that laid me out onto the bathroom floor. Beau, my wife had to help me up off the floor and guide me back into bed. The vomiting episode took something out of me. So far, what it took from me never came back and ever since then I have felt different. Beau always stays cool and collected when I am ill. Most of the time she'll say, "Don't worry, you'll be better in a little while." When she saw how I was puking and sweating and how difficult it was for me to stand, it was one of the few times I could see the concern in her eyes. She wanted me to go to the hospital, I refused simply because I wanted to lay in bed. Two days later, I was up and around and doing much better. One thing strange coinciding with these episodes is a strong urge for ice cream. I love ice cream and always have, but the majority of the time I have the discipline to only eat it once in a while and when I do, I eat relatively small portions (a scoop or two, maybe three). The pit of my stomach would start to get warm, then hot, and in my mind, the only option was ice cream. Ice cream cooled off my stomach and made me feel better.
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