A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

I thought that after my fantastic boat story in the last post, that a few pictures might help show everyone what it was really like. No, there are no pictures of the actual puking.

The start of the boat ride... See how happy I look?


We are nearing the islands... See how I don't look so happy anymore?


A few pictures of the fish eating bread crumbs, before the main course of puke...


And finally, me, near death after being mauled by fish.
I hope this helped add a little laughter to everyone again. Tomorrow? Maybe a post with more pictures of the happier days in Mexico.

Note to self: YOU DON'T LIKE BOATS!!

*Note to the reader...
This story is a little disgusting. If you have a weak stomach, you may want to rethink reading this post.


Well, as most of you know, I have been in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico for the last week. Let's start by saying that this place is amazing. We are staying at a beautiful resort, right on the ocean, and everything is just gorgeous. We started our vacation with an amazing zipline through the canopy of the jungle experience, and riding high off that, we decided to book a snorkeling tour a short boat ride from our hotel at a world famous trio of small islands just off the coast. This sounds marvelous, right?
Wrong.
I forgot, I don't like boats. Or rather, my body does not like boats.
Apparently my wonderful brother who speaks spanish wandered down to the beach and found a man who knew somebody with a boat, and for a small fee, he would contact said captain and book us a snorkeling tour. Great. Done.
The boat will be at the beach behind our hotel to pick us up at 11am the following morning. I have never been snorkeling, so I was very excited. The next morning, we are all at the beach anxiously awaiting our tour boat at 10:45. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. About 11:30 a very beat up smaller boat pulls up to the beach, and the random dude at the beach informs us that this is our tour. Clue #1 - If your tour boat looks like it won't hold all of you, like it's about to fall apart at any moment, and the crew looks like a mugshot of Bob Marley, maybe you shouldn't get on the boat.
I got on the boat.
Once we got through the adventure of getting on the boat, which none of got away with doing without bruises, we were on our way. If you could get past the smell of gasoline, and the fear that the boat was about to fall apart, it was exhilarating. We saw fish jumping. We saw a dolphin, and the view of the city from the ocean was amazing. About 15 minutes into the boat ride, I remembered.
I get seasick.
As I have not spent a lot of time on boats, this small fact had left my memory. Clearly this is something I should remember about myself. I tried to look out the front of the boat, because this sometimes helps, but to no avail. By the time we arrived at our destination 15 minutes later, I was sick.
We had brought some dried bread with us to lure the fish, and boy were there fish. I was slightly distracted by thousands of fish by the side of the boat fighting for bread crumbs, but as the suiting up got under way, I was not doing well. I decided that I was just going to curl up on the boat and try not to die while everyone was snorkeling.
Did I mention that we had booked a 3 hour snorkeling tour?
And that we were far enough out in the ocean that the water was approx 25 feet deep?
So I was stuck.
When my family saw how sick I was, they assured me that it would be better in the water, and I should just get a mask on and go in.
Clue #2 - Don't trust the people who aren't the least bit sick.
I went in the water. I will go on record and admit that it was amazing. We were near some caves on these 3 islands, and there were several cliffs under water, and the wildlife was incredible. I however, was getting sicker. I decided that my original course of action was best. It was time to go back to the boat, curl up and try not to die.
As I was swimming back to the boat, I realized that things were not good.
I was probably not going to keep my breakfast.
My goal now became getting back to the boat, and on it, so I could puke off the side where there were not many snorkelers. I did not make it.
Just as I got to the side of the boat, up came breakfast.
Now, puking by itself is not the most horrible thing in the world, however, I was strapped to a life jacket that was keeping me afloat in a very awkward position, so the best I could do was turn my head so the puke didn't go all over the front of me. As humiliating as it was to throw up right in front of our "tour guide", the humiliation was short lived. Apparently fish can't tell the difference between dried bread, and puke. I was almost immediately swarmed by hundreds of fish trying to eat my puke. Problem was, I was still puking.
It is terrifying to throw up while you are in 25 feet of water, being swarmed by fish. Needless to say, I was just trying to keep fish from getting in my mouth, not so much about which direction my head was pointed. After there was no more puke, and the fish had gone on their merry way, I just wanted out of the water. I crawled up into the boat, wrapped myself in a towel, and curled up at the front of the boat no longer sure that I didn't want to die.
Thankfully, my family got bored about an hour later, and we were able to head back to the hotel.
I did not move the entire time. I don't care what you people can see.
As soon as we got back I headed to the hotel room, and went right for the shower. Even though the fish appeared to have eaten it all, I felt like I was covered in throw up.
Oh, guess what? I was.
When I peeled my swimsuit off, there was throw up all down the front of me. I almost puked again.
I spent close to an hour in the shower scrubbing me and my suit, and then curled up in bed for the rest of the day.
Moral of the story?
Self - Please try to remember in the future that you don't like boats...

A Comedy of Horrors...

I am going to start this off by saying thank you to my wonderful friend Aspen, who not only came up with the title of this post, but also in the process of helping me laugh about this situation, came up with a few other gems that you will find further on (I will give her credit for all of them). Thanks Spen, for being such a great friend, and helping me find the humor in my "comedy of horrors". Love ya!

This past Thursday morning while I was getting ready for work, I noticed a spot on my back that was very painful. It felt a little bit like there was something stuck in my bra strap, so I checked it only to find nothing. I was running late for work, so I just left thinking nothing else of it, because it would only hurt every once in a while when I moved. It continued all day, and seemed to be happening more and more as the day wore on. I left work early to go to an appt with my therapist, and while I was there I could not even lean back against the couch. When I got home, I asked Scott to look at it, to see if there was anything there. This was my first mistake...

He says, "you have shingles".

I say, "we're not friends anymore, you can go home".

He didn't think this was nearly as funny as I did, and wants to know why being the bearer of bad news makes him that bad guy. I'm still convinced that if he hadn't said that, the horrible burning spot would have just magically gone away while I slept that night. Or not, but that's what I'm saying, and I'm sticking with it.

After a horrible night of not being able to have anything even touch my back, I woke up at my normal time of 4:30, with major flu type symptoms. I had to go to work, so I got up and jumped in the shower. Serious mistake # 2. For future reference - when your back has spots on it that feel like they are on fire, getting in the shower is a VERY bad idea. I lived through that, and went to work. When I arrived I called our on-site health clinic, and told them I though there might be a possibility that I MIGHT have shingles. They told me to come right down. I don't feel good about this.

I arrive at the health clinic, and our local PA comes in. Side note - I would not trust this health clinic for anything more serious than a common cold, or confirming shingles, and you are about to read why. She asks me about my symptoms, says it's probably shingles, and that she should take a quick look to confirm. At this point, instead of having me change into a gown, she just lifts up my shirt to look. Remember that the worst of it is under my bra strap, and it has gotten really gross overnight. While trying to lift my bra strap to get a good look, I hear her say "Oh, ew! I just touched it!" Give me a freaking break. Nice job, and way to be professional. After quickly washing her hands, because no, she did not have gloves on, she confirms the diagnosis of shingles. You have GOT to be kidding me. Did I mention that I am going to Mexico in 4 days...?

We discuss medication options, and my choices are taking 5 giant pills a day, for a relatively cheap price, or 1 giant pill a day for 10 times the price. I chose 5 times a day. What have I got to do anyway, besides making sure I take a pill every 4 hours? She then tells me that shingles is a virus, and is currently doubling every 20 minutes in my body, and that the meds will only stop it from multiplying, but what is already "active", I will just have to get over, and my nasty open blister sores will probably continue to spread for 24-48 hours. Well, aren't you are just a barrel of sunshine?

I really needed to be at work that day, so I wanted to know if I was contagious or not. The answer I got?

"You are leaking infection from your ENTIRE body. Not just the oozing open wounds on your back, but your whole body, like your nose and stuff."

Ok, really? I'm leaking infection from my nose? And the rest of my ENTIRE body? Thanks, that makes me feel great. Or like a giant cloud of green, nasty ooze is all around me that everybody but me can see. Then?

"Don't worry" she says, "you can't give anyone shingles, you can only give someone the chicken pox, if they haven't had it."

Finally! The first helpful thing she says! Who hasn't had the chicken pox? I am totally fine to be at work. I think she knew that she had lifted my spirits a little, and that couldn't happen, so on my way out she has this little gem for me.

"You should also not be around anyone who has a weakened immune system, even if they have had the chicken pox."

What? Maybe someone like my boss, who is currently on chemotherapy for cancer? Like him? Fine. Oh, did I mention that I had a very important meeting with him in 2 hours? No? Well, thanks lady, for completely ruining my day. I don't like you anymore either.

On my way back upstairs, I devise this wonderful plan to cancel the meeting with my boss, and stay away from him all day, but still work. I get up there only find out that 2 people I work closely with have not had the chicken pox. Seriously? Freaks of nature. At this point I got bombarded with people wanting to see the blisters on my back. Gross. Let the puss ooze in peace people (thanks, Aspen!). I was resigned to going home, and as soon as my boss saw me, I was ordered out of the building. Message received - I'm going home. Before going home, I needed to get me prescription filled. I ran to the pharmacy downstairs in our building, because I was there, and it would be one less stop on the way home. My day was not about to get better. The crazy pharmacist says to me "I don't have enough pills to fill your prescription, but I should have it on Monday."

"I'll just take it to my local pharmacy" I say. What does he have to say to this?

"Haven't you learned that patience is a virtue?"

Ok, I have officially had it. I am at my wits end, and I truly can't be nice anymore.

"Not when a virus is currently multiplying in my body at a rate of double every 20 minutes."

He looked a little shocked, but was rescued from certain maiming, and possible death, when his assistant found some more in the back. Thank you very much, give me my medicine, and I am going home.

Upon arriving home, I call the aforementioned wonderful friend, because I know that she can help me see the humor in any situation. After getting a full work out laughing at my day, I try to get some sympathy for the fact that I am going to have a nasty scabby back on my vacation in Mexico. Her reaction?

"You are a genius! Take your white man's disease down to Mexico, give them all chicken pox, and take over Puerto Vallarta!" Or something similar to that.

I am indeed a genius. I will let you all know when I control my small portion of Mexico, and you can all come down to join me. See you soon...