I was really in the mood for onion rings, which, by themselves should not do anything. A normal serving of onion rings isn't that filling, and the rings themselves don't do much damage. So I left to go to Le Roi du Smoked Meat (Montreal really should be a bilingual zone). Had I gone alone, I would have ordered the rings and taken them home. But Rose followed me, and for some silly reason I felt pressure to sit in the restaurant and order even more food. Suddenly I felt like having a bit of spaghetti on top of the rings. It would look weird if I just ordered onion rings, wouldn't it? Christ, what a mistake. I ordered a half portion of spaghetti (by whispering, since I can't talk) and the rings. I ate, slowly and methodically, and things seemed to be going well. But these things usually take some time for the drama to occur. In retrospect, if I was going to eat that stuff, I should have eaten what I could (barely half) and gotten the hell out of there back home ASAP. That way I could have my stomach spasms in the peace of my own home. But no, I was hopeful that I didn't have too much food and that after 20 minutes it would pass through my system to the point where I could stand up and walk home with no pain or extra effort.

What actually happened was that I waited, and 20 minutes later I was in so much pain that I could not even stand up straight. I forced myself to leave the restaurant, partially folded over like a lawn chair. When I left, I rushed across the street to a bench and sat there hoping that the pain would subside. But it only became worse. There was gas, probably a normal amount of gas in a space less than half the normal size. The gas was trapped and had to exit in its own time. I couldn't pass wind because I am constipated (I'm on narcotics for pain). After about 10 minutes I tried standing up just to see if I could walk. No go. We sat on that corner for what seemed like forever before I noticed a cab approaching. I gestured for Rose to hail it and we went home.

But of course, the challenge wasn't over. I have to climb two flights of stairs to get into my apartment, and it was at that moment that the pain actually increased (likely due to the activity). At this point I was whimpering and moaning loudly in agony. The gas was trying to rip itself out of my body. I needed to get to bed and fast. After finally making it there and squirming in bed for a while, it finally started escaping through my mouth. Such RELIEF!. (It tried going south only to find itself blocked, then it came back up north, you see. It's like traffic.) I even managed to speak to Rose a little before we drifted off to sleep.

It was awful. The worst physical experience of my life, possibly. But I wonder, though, if most others would have handled it differently. I hope I am not too much of a pansy, but goddamnit that was painful.

So here I am this morning, afraid to eat anything at all. I am coughing slightly, which causes me to double over with pain in my sides. Honestly, things wouldn't be anywhere near as annoying if this cough weren't there. I am on codeine syrup, supposedly good for coughing and pain at the same time. We'll see, I guess.