Attack of the Evil Stomach part 2
What is it about me and traveling? I just got back from a 5 day trip to Halifax where I contracted yet another evil stomach thing. Not as bad as the evil European stomach thing - nothing has been as bad as that - but I was left feeling pretty crummy. I so look forward to these trips - I'm away from home, don't have to worry about kids or cooking or cleaning, and I want to let loose and have fun. Not so easy when I feel like I've been hit by a bus and I have a bad case of the squirts. I tried to put on a brave face and "get out there", but my attempts were quite pathetic. My poor friend that was with me probably thinks that I'm just an old fart who doesn't know how to have fun.

Let me tell you about the evil stomach thing that I got in Europe - I kindly refer to it as the "European diet" as I lost about 10-15 pounds from it. Picture this - traveling by train from Amsterdam to Vienna. It was a long ride and I just had one of those sleeper chairs where it is next to impossible to sleep. I had spent the entire day touring around Amsterdam on a hot day, so I was really tired and crampy from my female issues (which I fondly refer to as my 4-day hemorrhage - please somebody just rip my uterus out because I'm done with it). To top it off, I'm traveling through Germany the night before the world cup starts - good planning Marta. Party train was filled with rowdy European football fans and it was stopped at the German border and searched by police and dogs. Not long after Munich, I was hit by evil stomach thing. First the squirts started, then I puked somewhere between Salzburg and Vienna, all the while trying to control the raging fever (and let's not forget about the hemorrhage). I'm by myself and nearly comatose - I can't even imagine what I looked like. I wanted to die. But I survived the train ride, and forced myself to see the sights in Vienna and then Salzburg despite the fact that I existed on water and bread for almost 5 days. By the time I got to Paris over a week later, the cramps had stopped and I managed to eat a real meal the night before I left Paris. It took me about 3 weeks to fully shake the last of the evilness.