Ughgh. Ghghghghg. Gh.

… is how I felt the last few days, thanks to a surprise gastrointestinal upset that hit about 4:30 am on Wednesday morning. Fortunately the convention floor was already closed and I didn’t have to do booth duty—which would have been very difficult, since the exhibit hall was a good long hike from the men’s room.

I was fortunately able to change my flight, which had been scheduled as a red eye with a connection through Long Beach, and got home in time to get a reasonable night’s sleep. I’m starting to be able to keep fluids down too. I guess what they say about men being the worst patients is true; I want to stand up and cheer that I’m not visiting the bathroom every half hour. “Yay me! Fluids aren’t passing right through me!” What do you want? A cookie?