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Post Reply Food Poisoning
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24 / M / UK
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Posted 1/10/15
Last year I got food poisoning from eating a raw donkey.
Very unpleasant experience
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Posted 1/10/15 , edited 1/10/15

Scooty-Bby wrote:

from eating a raw donkey.


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25 / M / New Orleans
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Posted 1/10/15
I had food poisoning before it was one of the worst feeling of my life. I couldn't leave my bathroom at all, and nothing would stay down if you try to eat later.
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Posted 1/10/15
It was 2 in the morning. I was lying on a sidewalk, alone and unable to move, in south side Chicago. My apartment was only 100 meters away, but I couldn't go further - my body had spent the last of its strength fighting the demon in my stomach. I opened my eyes as I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and...

Wait. Let me back up.

I began that day - a Friday, fall of 2012 - by meeting some friends at our university club room. We spent most of the day building medieval siege weaponry, as university clubs are prone to do. The club had actually been building this particular machine for several weeks, but our goal was to finish by the next day so we had an all-nighter planned.

I grabbed lunch at Jimmy John's.

We had a pretty massive operation. We poured our own concrete for a 600 lb counterweight; cut a bunch of 2X4s and 2X6s to our design specs; made a wicked throwing arm with a wooden I-beam, laminated sheets of plywood, and a hefty steel pipe which I have no idea where we found. And we assembled it all in an underground concrete bunker built to withstand a nuclear explosion. You know, standard university club room.

I grabbed diner at Jimmy John's. Don't judge, it was a long day.

That night, we had the trebuchet fully assembled and conducted some preliminary testing. Looked good, but it was two stories tall and we didn't have quite enough room to let it rip (Safety fir-... near the top of the list!) Now it was time to take the whole damn thing apart so we could get it out of the bunker and reassembled outside. We definitely planned that in advance, and didn't spend the next few hours wedging the throwing arm around corners in a hallway.

We ordered pizza for second dinner. I don't remember from where. It was close to 9 pm, so we'd been at it for 12 hours.

After pushing, pulling, and carrying enough wood, concrete, and rope to bring down a castle wall, we arrived at our final build location. We began the reassembly, power drills and flashlights in hand. We made a few last minute design changes. Someone started doing matrix algebra to minimize some forces. The cops came to make sure we weren't vandalizing something, but left when we convinced them it was for throwing pumpkins across the baseball field, and totally not for throwing boulders at the apartment building across the street. Great fun.

That's when I began to feel less than spectacular. At first I figured I had just been on my feet too long, or I had a bit too much second dinner. Then I felt worse. And worse. With weakening debuffs active and low hp and mana reserves, I decided I'd head home early (you know, about midnight).

It was a half-hour walk to my apartment. Half-way there, things were definitely getting painful, but I still didn't understand how dire my situation was. Ten minutes from my apartment, I had to slow my pace. With each step I took, the pain in my gut got worse. Only minutes from my apartment, I was staggering down the dark, dirty Chicago sidewalk like a lone drunk.

I didn't really collapse - I willfully lied down on the sidewalk, moaning and holding my belly to stop the demon from bursting out. All jokes aside, I was literally in too much pain to stand at that point. I've broken an arm before - not even close. Barring really severe physical trauma, no pain is worse than internal pain, like your organs have split into gangs and started having knife fights in your belly.

When I heard the approaching footsteps, I wasn't even afraid of being mugged. But the footsteps passed. I guess it looked like I'd already spent all my money on cannabis products. Resting on the ground, I regained enough mana to get to my feet and make it to the safety of my apartment. But the worst part was still to come.

I'm going to spare you the details. That I spent the entire night on the Ceramic Throne goes without saying. The aforementioned knife fight escalated like that scene in Anchorman, with new players joining the melee one by one. My liver pulled out a grenade, my intestines killed my kidneys with a trident...it was bad. After an interminable wait, there was flushing, followed by more waiting and more gang warfare. There was undigested food - I recognized my previous meals, fleeing in order. There were eldritch things only C'thulu knows of. There was blood.

I'm not really sure what the lesson is here. Don't eat at JJ's? Always wash your lettuce? Label the pieces of your siege weapon so it can be speedily reassembled? I don't know. But next time a friend hits me with his car in a parking lot, I'll say, "nah, don't worry about it, I've had much worse."
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