st. p.

p. has been taking care of me, these past several days. i'm still pukey and nauseous, and can't even bear to walk through the kitchen. so p. has been cooking and cleaning and bringing toast to bed. eating has always been one of our favorite things to do together, but food has lost all it's pleasure for me, and so p. has also been subjecting himself to boring things like bagels when he might otherwise be having mexican or thai or at least something not in the bread group. we cancelled our latin american christmas plans because of me. i feel terrible. yet he is saintly and cheerful and begrudges me nothing.

called the doctor's office the other day, mentioned i had job interviews coming up, asked if there was anything at all they'd be willing to do to help me with the nauea. they refused, on account of the fact that i am keeping some food and liquid down, and suggested i try any of the overthecounter stuff listed on a pink sheet they'd given me earlier, or having toast in bed, or ginger tea, or all the other things i've already been trying which haven't worked. so p. took me to walgreens, where i talked to a fatherly pharmacist who recommended-- "you're going to laugh," he said-- cola syrup instead. 2 tsp. over crushed ice, as needed. surprisingly, it does help a little, but only for a while.

i have seven interviews over the course of 2 days next week. really hoping i'll make it through without puking on someone's shoes.