Marrying George Clooney

it was horrific.
like something entered my body and grabbed hold, and went into every muscle and bone and nerve, and on top of that i was doubled over in pain. and IT said: GOTCHA. and I said: OH NO, FUCK YOU.
my best friend or BFFTAAOMGLOL amy litzenberger had caught this horrific god awful bug. some stomach flu intestinal thing and she thought she was going to die, and because we share just about everything, she gave it to me. and it crept up. and then it hit like a mofo, and last night at 2 am, while my darling husband slept with his ear plugs and eye mask and farted his way — little putters than a BANG, little putters than a BANG… straight into dreamland, i was doubled over thinking, “my god what awful awful farts…and… okay this is it, the end, the last moments of a life well lived…” and then i had this thought, what if what if… it’s something worse, incurable, something that will cripple me and leave me with one left foot? I didn’t even have the ability – OH MY GOD – to google “diseases that start with a minor sore throat and travel into every pore and cell of your body and leave you completely incapacitated.” and of course, FYI, DO YOU FEEL LUCKY would come up after i googled that and good god did i not feel lucky… so i just lay there (or is it lie there, or laid there…) and thought…as my left side was beginning to go numb and my face began to droop and my head began to throb (i’m NOT exaggerating) i thought, ice or heat? i never know, if it’s an ice-pack or a heating-pad. and this went on until i completely frenzied myself into some hypo-tension HOLY SHIT I’M GOING TO BE BLIND hell, and then… then … i remembered about my friend who just had an awful twisted neck and nerve thing and her physical therapist told her to use moist heat. MOIST HEAT. and so i put the heating pad on full hot blast and an ice pack on my throbbing head and my husband continued his rhythmical god awful farting… and i thought as i began to dose off…
this is not how it’s gonna end.
nope.
last moments: paris.