It has been decided that Thursday’s will now feature a throwback memory relating to my adventure with cancer, so get pumped for some delightful tales. And also, rest assured that I will still be attempting to keep up with monitoring the progression of this round of chemo.
So, today’s throwback memory of choice is one that I am particularly proud of: The Story of My Projectile Vomit.
Way back when I was on 8A during my initial induction round of chemo (October ’15) I had one of the most remarkable and life-defining moments of my entire life. I had just finished nibbling on some hospital food– a hamburger and some lasagna– when I migrated to the bathroom to pee. The chemo had been pretty rough on my body, and I was nauseous a lot of the time and was lucky when I could sneak a couple bites of food. It was also because of these frequent spells of nausea that I had developed an emergency hand gesture for “get me a fucking garbage can pronto ’cause I’m about to vom hardcore”. The gesture was something along the lines of a panicked “come here” that was understood by my parents as “come here– with a fucking garbage can”. Together, we got that whole exchange down to a science.
Anyway, on this particular day, I had made it to the bathroom to take care of business when I was hit with the all-to-familiar sensation of impending doom. I made my emergency hand gesture, and was quickly greeted with the familiar sight of the inside of a trash can. As with many of these situations, all it took was seeing the welcoming opening to push me over the edge. However, instead of the usual short heaves of vomit punctuated by shaking breaths of misery, I opened my mouth and released the most impressive spout of puke I have ever seen in my life.
Truly this was a memorable moment. A life-defining moment. The pinnacle of my vomiting career.
My eyes were clenched shut, much like they always are when I begin to vomit. But as the massive spurt continued, I opened my eyes in stunned wonder.
Sure enough, the gushing stream of vomit was continuing. It was amazing, like a cartoon or something that you’d only ever seen in a movie. It almost seemed like the forceful stream projecting from my face hole was wider than my actual mouth– fucking intense and equally captivating. It reached a point where I started to think that I was going to die– and not from cancer, but from my insane puke. I needed to take a fuckin’ breath, but the vomit just continued. Had the garbage can not been there, I have no doubt that the fire hose of puke would have gone at least five or six feet. It was hitting the side of the trash can with enough force that the splashback was spattering my face– if you haven’t gathered yet, this was like the puke of a lifetime, the puke of the century! I wish I’d have known what was going to go down because you best believe I’d’ve (that’s a new hybrid word I just created) had someone catch it on film. Fuckin’ power puke. No description can do it justice.
I’m totally digging these throwback things! It’ll be a fun way to catch up on things I haven’t discussed while also keeping up with things that are going on now.