Greetings one & all. Sorry this wasn't up sooner, but Blogger had some issues.
In this, Flashback Friday #136, we finally venture into High School. The last several post were about the ending of 8th grade and my Jr.High experience. But what does this have to do with the title? Allow me to explain.
On the first day of 9th grade, I caught the bus like I had for many years. This year, school started on a Thursday. I didn't feel very well, but I figured that I was just nervous about a new school year starting. I got off the bus, went into the High School building, and looked on the wall to see which home room class I was in.
I made it to the classroom, and saw many kids that I knew from Jr. High. There were a few there I didn't know. I sat next to a guy, Ron, who was somewhat friendly to me the previous year.
The queasiness that I had felt on the bus hadn't gone away. In fact, it had gotten much worse. I told Ron, that I wasn't feeling good. He assured me that it was just nerves. I told him "you don't understand I really feel #%&*!$ terrible". He raised an eyebrow and told me to go tell the teacher.
I went to the teacher's desk and told her that I felt really bad. She asked if I felt like I was going to throw up. I told her "Yes". She told me to go down to the office. I never understood this. Why go to the office. Do they like seeing kids puke? Is there some weird fascination therein? It made more sense to go to the bathroom and throw up in the toilet, but I did what I was told.
I told the secretary that I felt sick. Just as soon as the words "Do you feel like you are going to throw up?" came out of her mouth, everything I had for breakfast came out of mine. A call went out to the janitor and to Aunt Shelly, who was my emergency contact.
Aunt Shelly came and took me home, where I got sick again. She called Mom at work to let her know. When Mom got home from work, she asked me if I felt any better. I told her that I still felt really, really bad. She tried to get me to eat some saltines, but I couldn't hold them down.
The next day, I got ready for school. I didn't feel as bad, but I didn't feel good. About 10 minutes before the bus came, I made a mad dash to "bow before the throne". When the bus stopped, I waved it on. I then called Mom to let her know that I didn't go to school. She said maybe I would feel better after the weekend.
But I didn't. Monday I was still sick. Tuesday too. Wednesday Mom took me to the doctor. He ran a few test and decided that I had acute gastritis (that's Latin for "I don't have a clue what's wrong with him), and put me on a very bland diet. Thursday, even the bland diet didn't stay down. Friday, more of the same. At this point I had missed the first seven days of school due to being sick in the morning, hence the title of this post, morning sickness.
The only thing that I was able to keep down with any regularity was a vanilla milkshake. It got to the point where my parents would bring one home with them for my supper. In the nine days that I was sick, I lost nearly 20 pounds.My new school clothes didn't fit right. They were a bit baggy.
When I finally made it back to school, I had to see the guidance counselor first thing.He was under the impression that since I hadn't been to school, I must have moved away. I explained my sickness and showed him the doctor's note. He arranged for me to get to my classes and had the teachers get together all the assignments that I had missed. Talk about having a lot of homework to do after just one day at school.