Arianna

Noticed at 1:12 am


After sleeping a fitful 2 hours, I awake to jarring pain. Organs feel as if they're ripped from my insides and put back together in the wrong place. I turn and turn and turn in my bed, trying to find the least painful position, which apparently doesn't exist.

Two questions blind my consciousness as I sit up:
1. Do I need to vomit?

(No)

2. Will I live through the night? Who will and when will they find my body, once curled up in pain, now relaxed to some ridiculous "dead" position? Should I put on pants just in case?

(I can't answer these as easily)

Admittedly, question 2 got a little out of hand. But at night, my thoughts don't just run wild, they run far far far out to where reason doesn't matter anymore. Where dreams, hopes, fears blend with my memory of everyday life.

A third question: What do I do now? I have no peptobismol, and tums would just make me nauseous.

I lumber around my room, opening my cellphone for light as I look for my Pain Reliever PM, which I pray to any sentient being will work. I swallow them without water, dry heave once, then crawl back into bed and lie flat on my back. Staring at my plain white ceiling, I try to reign in my thoughts from the edge of ridiculous. "It'll be gone by morning," I think. "You're fine." "You've kind of been through this before." "It's okay."

I eventually fall asleep, ready to think about something else.