But sometimes life hits you in the gut. Or more accurately, in the stomach. And scratch “life” and replace it with “possibly a food-borne pathogen”. Yep, I think I had a case of food poisoning.
Everything was fine until about mid-day on Wednesday, as I was departing Vashon Island. Then I started to ache and feel nauseous while waiting for the ferry back to the mainland. In Tacoma my stomach tried to evacuate stuff (unsuccessfully) and I felt better for an hour or two, but it really hit me on the train ride home: nausea, fever, chills, bleah. When April picked me up at Union Station I demanded a taxi, as there was no way I could ride home.
I was pretty much bedridden from Wednesday night until Friday morning, as I had a small fever, no energy, or appetite. Friday brought with it the breaking of the fever and a regaining of strength and appetite, but I still wasn’t 100%. Even as I type this (Saturday night) I still can’t say that I’m fully recovered. Give me a day or two.
It could have been worse, and I definitely had worse cases of gastroenteritis in my life. But never while traveling, which made the ordeal a bit worse than it was. It was a downer end to what was otherwise a pretty good ten days on the road.
So in the coming week, look for entries regarding the tour. Until then, I will tide you over with a photo of Tom Baker on a bicycle. Again.
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