Well, six days following the onset of the mystery illness, I’m feeling a million times better. I’d say, operating at about 90 percent. I should be pretty pleased about recovering, but for the most part, I’m pretty damn bummed. My honeypot left this afternoon. He had a recurrence of nausea yesterday, so until this afternoon, we were desperately trying to make that go away. Certainly didn’t want him to sit aboard a crowded plane for 12 hours feeling ready to vomit. Poor thing. This bug really killed our plans for a final happy week together. Boo hoo.

This morning, I made an important discovery though. Some homeopathic sites claim a teaspoon of tumeric in water is just the antidote for the runs, among other discomforts. Desperate, he agreed to try it. I know, I was totally surprised too. I took a sip before giving it to him: it was like drinking sawdust water. Haha, you should have seen his face. Within an hour, though, the gurgling belly was quiet. He still had trips to the bathroom, but they seemed a bit more controlled. An hour before the cab was slated to arrive, he was back to his usual annoying housemate ways: James Brown and Bruce Springsteen polluting my formerly quiet and peaceful room.

I like to think the tumeric worked. John’s still a bit skeptical. Guess we’ll never really know since he refused to take a bottle with him to continue drinking the sawdust elixir, and well, if his condition persists, he’ll be seeking professional help. Oh well, another thing to try the next time.

I’m going to stay away from the television tonight. Feeling especially fragile; definitely don’t need some tearjerker drama or cheesy romantic comedy the next few days. Perhaps a massage or stress-releasing acupuncture session (hurray for my gift certificate)…