The F@%!!!

Yes, that's the F-word again. The Flu came back. Not the very next day, but it sure didn't stay away. And, on top of that, it took from me something very special. Peanut Butter.

Maybe some explanation is necessary.

In 2004, a friend and I flew to visit her family in PEI. It was great. Her family was awesome, welcoming, so much fun (as most East-Coasters are) and I had a blast. Until... they told me that part of the maritime tradition was eating a raw oyster. I'd had oysters before. Never raw, mind you, but my dad and I used to love eating smoked oysters with cheese and crackers and pickles. Sounds weird, but it was our thing. Being the youngest child and never being able to turn down a dare, I ate one. It was gross. I'm not a drinker, but I remember chasing it with a shot (maybe two) of straight liquor just to get the snotty, slimy feeling out of my throat. An aphrodisiac?? I think not.  Well, it just so happened that the oyster I ate was a bad one. And I threw up so many times, I lost count. I remember my friend telling me that even though the bathroom was at the very opposite end of the house from the living room, they could hear me retching clear as day. THAT is how hard I was throwing up.

I lost my appetite for oysters that day.  It took about 6 months before I could think of them without tasting bile in the back of my throat. It took a year before I could walk past them in the seafood department without gagging a little. And it took probably six years before I ever even ate a smoked oyster again.  You see, I'm not one of those people that pukes and forgets about it. I hold a vomit grudge and I refuse to eat whatever I threw up for a long long time. That is why when the flu goes around, I usually don't eat my favourite foods. I don't want to have to hate them.

Well, I was cocky because it had been more than a few days since Mac had power vomited all over Harry and I wasn't sick yet.  On Thursday I decided to make these super yummy sounding oatmeal peanut butter protein balls I'd been eyeing for a while on Pinterest. *Pardon me while I sip my tea in order to settle my stomach. It hurts to even type the P***** B***** word right now* I made them and LOVED them. And ate them. And ate them. And ate them.

And then shortly after 11 PM on Thursday night my love affair with P----- B----- ended. Violently. In a most disgusting and horrific manner.  According to my mother in law what I had was the Norwalk Virus. To be honest, I'd been sorta cavalier about the whole flu thing, I mean, it couldn't be that bad (aside from the puking) right? Well, I haven't felt that crappy since I was food poisoned. I was shaking and cramping so badly that I took a bath at 2 AM just to relax my muscles. Normally with the flu, you sleep between puking bouts. I was so sore, I couldn't. I think I dosed off in the bathroom at one point, draped over the toilet and too exhausted to walk the eight steps back to my bed. I remember thinking "I just want my mom!!" and realizing that I was that guy. You know the one??  In the Nyquil commercial? That's. How. Crummy. I. Felt.  Let me tell you something folks, this Norwalk thing ain't no joke! Thank God my neighbour had some Gravol that I was able to take at 6 on Friday night and finally got about six hours of sleep.

Now it's Sunday and it looks like Harry has come down with it, though he has yet to throw up.  I still haven't fully recovered and to be honest I think I will have a little bit of peanut butter related PTSD for a while.  Maybe it's time to un-Pin some recipes...

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