I almost fainted getting on my last bus. Every movement induces even more nausea than the last. But the most alarming thing was a compliment today, on my weight loss.

I’ve been sick long enough to lose weight enough that it’s noticeable.

I still don’t know what the cause of this is. And it’s not letting up.


I managed to find some old nausea pills in the medicine drawer. After fighting with the front, which is jamming the drawer in and falling off at the same time, I had them in hand. Prescription, too—good stuff. Right now I’m praying that it works, and quickly.

My fantasies are occupied with visions of cheese and rice—my go to on a hard day, but in the last few days, an impossibility. I read articles about the aesthetics of food, making notes and experiencing the meal vicariously.

Come on, pill. Please work.


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