In September of 2001, I spent a week or two feeling really sick to my stomach. I mean, we all did, didn't we, but it was bad enough to send me to a doctor, who was very sympathetic and gave me some innard-controlling medicine as well as some counsel that when things had settled a bit, things would, well, settle a bit.
I only think of this now because this morning, you know, I went about my business, alarm clock, shower, coffee, drive in to work, and then I spent ten minutes [details redacted to spare you], and am still feeling a little gurgly, and it occurs to me to wonder if there's a post-traumatic association thing going on in there. (I mean, I feel fine. Then, I didn't leave the house for three days, whereas now, I'm - as![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
musesfool said - grimly satisfied, and also wondering if this means I'll ever be allowed to bring full-sized toiletries on a plane again. ... And yet my insides are all watery. Is a puzzlement.)
I only think of this now because this morning, you know, I went about my business, alarm clock, shower, coffee, drive in to work, and then I spent ten minutes [details redacted to spare you], and am still feeling a little gurgly, and it occurs to me to wonder if there's a post-traumatic association thing going on in there. (I mean, I feel fine. Then, I didn't leave the house for three days, whereas now, I'm - as
musesfool said - grimly satisfied, and also wondering if this means I'll ever be allowed to bring full-sized toiletries on a plane again. ... And yet my insides are all watery. Is a puzzlement.)