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Saturday, September 27, 2003

The nausea cranked up to about a seven or eight on the scale and just hung there. Yesterday I pseudo-puked for the first time. I.e., I got out of bed and retched over the toilet but nothing came out. Not so lucky this morning.

I woke up and thought I could choke down an Ensure to perhaps stave off the bad nausea and puking. I got it down alright—only to puke it up 15 minutes later. After that lovely episode I took a shower thinking it would clean me up and relax me. Hello. What was I thinking? Thermal changes relaxing? I puked up the rest of the Ensure in the shower. The bottom of the stall filled with chocolate puke, and that just made me puke even more.

I got in the bed and cried.

I'm already hoping I miscarry. What hyperemetic doesn't? I see where all this is going. I see the year-long days stretching out before me like a round-the-world journey. I try to live moment by moment, but it is so hard not to get daunted by what is ahead: fear coupled with 24/7 nausea and vomiting. I don't want to go down this road. I don't feel as committed as before. And yet, there's nothing in the world I can do about it. Nothing I will do about it, although the unthinkable thought has crossed my mind in nauseating daydreams.

I took some Zofran for the first time about three hours ago. I took it because my doctor wouldn't prescribe an anti-nausea wristband that emits small electric shocks at set intervals. His reason: he doesn't know enough about it. So here I am online gleaning info to justify my request for non-pharmaceutical treatment. But I'm already on Zofran at less than six weeks. Great.

After I took the Zofran I fell asleep. I woke up an hour later with searing anxiety. It reminded me of Reglan. Does Zofran cause extrapyramidal effects? I'll have to read through my research. Do I need Benadryl? Ah, more drugs. Great.

My husband was taking our tot to Grandma's when I woke up. I tried to hold it together, but I just got overwhelmed, unable to see one more day of this suffering. This, coupled with the bizarre anxiety, had me walking up and down the hall weeping, "God, please help me. Please help me!"

The awful part is, this is nothing. Nothing at all what it could be.

And yet it's the worst.

It is here, and it's happening to me.

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