I’ve spent the better part of the past week with food poisoning. This means I’ve seen more of our bathroom than anyone or anything else, and in the aftermath I’ve been so weak that sometimes I’ve had to go back to bed because sitting in the recliner in front of the television was too strenuous.

Luckily I seem to be nearly back to normal now, though I’m still sleeping more than I’d like, and every muscle in my torso aches with exhaustion. Those of you who have had food poisoning know exactly what I mean. I haven’t had it since 1997, though, so I guess every eleven years isn’t such bad luck.

Emirhan was a great nurse, very attentive, except that he’d never dealt with food poisoning before, and didn’t understand just how seriously I meant it when I said I absolutely could not listen to him talk about food, or even say the very word itself. He quickly learned to keep his mouth shut after the first mistake, and subsequently ate quietly in the other room, never asked me if I wanted a bite, and never mentioned the F-word again.

Anyway, I’m back on solid food now, not quite a hundred percent but nearly so. Let’s hope it’s another eleven years before I have to go through that again.