Let me just give you a fair warning.
If you’re eating. Stop reading. If you get queasy easily, stop reading.

I hope that, for the most part, your Thanksgiving was much better than mine. It’s not that I had a horrible time, it just could’ve gone without a few incidents.

R (the Wife) and I decided to spend Vegas at R’s sister’s. On Tuesday, we stopped by Claremont to stay a night with my parents and hang out with them. Then on Wednesday morning, we were on the road (again).

It was an uneventful drive, but we made it safely to Vegas and to R’s sister’s.
We unloaded. Said hello to the family and decided to get a late lunch. We went to the local Korean grocery store and had really good Korean food at the food court. BoSam. Jjohk bahl. Yook gae jang. Yum.

After our satisfying meal, we were going to watch R’s niece go to her ice skating lessons.
We sat in the seats surrounding the ice rink, talking story and catching up, all the while I was laughing at the little kids slipping and falling (what? it was funny…)
After her practice was done, we decided to head over to the strip to walk a little bit.
I started feeling a bit uneasy then, but thought to myself, it’ll pass.

At the strip, we went to the Mandarin Oriental to get some tea. (Of all the places to visit… we, of course, decided to go to the one with the most Asian name…)

Sitting there, sipping my mango tea, I realized that I might be a little more sick than I thought. But I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s time at my expense. Besides, we were going to head home soon, and so there was no need to rush things.

We started our trip back home, and R wanted to take advantage of one of many foot massage places. But her sister said let’s go home first (which in hindsight: Thank God).

We got home, I made a beeline to our bedroom and just laid there wondering why the room was starting to spin slightly even when I’m 100% sober. R came in to check on me and I told her that I wasn’t feeling too well and feeling a bit nauseous, so I was going to lie down for a little while.
She decided that I needed the medicine all Koreans seem to go for when feeling nauseous: 7up.
Also, R and her sister needed a little bit more stuff for the Thanksgiving meal, so they headed to Wal-Mart.

So there I was. Lying down. Trying to stay… not-nauseous.
And I just laid there thinking, what a catch 22. Nothing would make me feel better than throwing up. But I hate even the thought of throwing up.

I was watching something on Netflix when I thought, “hmmm… this is getting intense. I think I may end up throwing up.”
I sat up. Paralyzed with fear.

… False alarm… Whew.

NOPE!
And I felt everything rushing up.
My first reaction was to swallow and run like hell to the bathroom.
Seemingly, swallowing what was coming up only made it angrier and it came roaring back up, twice as fierce; twice as angry.
I was nowhere near the bathroom, as the vomit now left my mouth at an alarming rate of speed. I tried to cover my mouth with my hands, but there was no way of stopping it now.

What an odd sight it must’ve been: running and spewing at the same time.

After what felt like eternity, I finally made it to the bathroom (which was only a couple of feet away from our room) and, man oh man, it kept going. For a good 5 minutes straight, it was coming out of me with such force and speed that it did not require me making the traditional barfing noises. The only noise was the vomit hitting the toilet boil, and because of its speed, the sounds of particles bouncing off the toilet bowl and landing else where. In fact, it was coming out so fast and hard, by the time I was done, my lower back was hurting.

I took a breath. It was all done. I looked around the bathroom floor. Oh my God. I started cleaning up. But as I was cleaning up, drips of vomit would fall in the place where I just cleaned up. Odd, I thought. So I got up and looked at the mirror.
My face and hair was covered in the meal that I had consumed earlier.

Apparently, when I covered my face, the vomit came out with such a force, that it ricocheted off my hand and landed everywhere.
My heart dropped.
I took a peek outside the bathroom.

Yep.

Vomit. All over the floor of the hallway.
And in various places in the CARPETED guest room. And a few big chunks on top of R’s suit case.
Yea. It couldn’t get any worse than this…

So I called R, hoping she would still be at Wal-Mart so she could pick up some carpet cleaner or something. Nope. They were pulling into the driveway. I filled her in on what just took place a few minutes ago.

I was able to clean most of the hallway and the bathroom floor when they finally came in.

If I had a tail, it would’ve been tucked way between my legs. I didn’t know what to say.
I mean, what do you say, as a 31 year old, who just ralphed all over someone’s house?
They both told me to hop in the shower, that they’ll take care of the rest.
I didn’t know how to help nor how to react. So, I just went in the shower.
While showering, I realized that I had a lot more particles in my hair that I didn’t get off earlier.
My shower smelled exactly what the late lunch smelled like, which made my stomach turn. It took ten minutes of constant soaping and shampooing to finally get rid of the smell of regurgitated Korean dinner.

I got out of the shower, made it to our room, to see R wiping away the last of the fragments from within off the carpet.
I can’t remember much of what happened afterwards.
I know I felt stupid and apologized a couple more times.

Then I went to bed.

So. There you have it.
The whole Thanksgiving Day, I was not 100%. I had some of the delicious dinner. But felt nauseous afterwards. I was on my toes so that I wouldn’t repeat the previous night’s event. I didn’t. Thankfully. And after nyquil, went to bed.

So that was my Thanksgiving.
It was fun for the most part. I would love to take back the part about throwing up all over my sister in-law’s house.

I guess it’s going to be one of those days I remember for a long, long time.