I’m home today (supposedly) on sick leave. And only an hour ago, I was sweating on the stair master downstairs. I won’t usually call myself a procrastinator, but when it comes to my well being – I SUCK with a capital P. Hence the “supposedly” on sick leave remark.

I’ve been having these gastric attacks since last week – medically correct would be 13 years ago – and it enjoys torturing me with its witty on and off visits despite fattening myself. So as usual, I took out my decade year old doctorate certificate and self-diagnosed an OK – as long as I eat, I thought. But yesterday wasn’t the case, the pain stuck for more than 12 hours. And no, I am not pregnant. It’s just a 4 month old looking air bag – which in this case, is my bloated stomach. Gastric is not a pretty sight. So please eat! To all you, who are on crash diets.

As I finally decided to get my lazy bum off my oh-so-comfortable Heidal for the doctor, miraculously the pain subsided. Isn’t that convenient?!@#$%^! What am I to do now? Seated restlessly with a number in hand – 7 to be exact – I had to make believe the pain, which I didn’t have to if I came 3 hours earlier *turns yellow* and that’s how I got my one day off *feel ridiculously guilty*

It’s just so upsetting! When I finally decide to go for a check-up, to be responsible for myself, my results somehow “wonderfully” comes out negative: 1) blood test of helicobactor was negative, 2) upper endoscopy was also negative. But why am I still sick? At moments like this, I wonder if there’s really a Gregory House in reality. I need a differential diagnosis! *sulks*

I am going to go to work tomorrow. And of course, “it” will be making its usual visit just before lunch time…

No related posts