This is disgusting but also amusing, I hope
November 6, 2011Last night I threw up, and this would not be worth noting except for the fact that I have not thrown up since 1978. It was at Hershey Park, I was nine, and, you know. Chocolate bars. Amusement park rides. There was nothing traumatic about that incident, so I'm not sure why I developed a huge fear of throwing up. Oh, but I did! (Huge. Like, cried throughout the first trimester of pregnancy because It might happen. Hyperventilated at the thought of caring for a sick child. Wept if someone threw up in a movie. Still haven't forgiven best friend for sending "funny" picture of one drunk guy puking pretzels and beer on another drunk guy. Huge.)
At some point I controlled my fear by deciding that I would simply not throw up, ever again. Just wouldn't! No matter what occurred in my digestive system, I would fight the urge until it passed.
I am as surprised as anyone that this worked so well.
My pukeophobia eased up somewhat as Henry grew up, and I saw how utterly blasé he was about the act. Once he got carsick and immediately after announced, "Wow! Throwing up is magic!" And then asked for a cookie.
This is all gross, I know. I apologize. If there are any fellow phobics out there, I am well and truly sorry. But maybe this will heal you! Read on!
Anyway, last night I was out visiting a friend, and I endured a thrill-ride cab ride home, during which I began feeling distinctly unwell. Things were not good. I don't know whether it was the takeout Indian, or the wine, or the ride, or the existential horror. Whatever it was, I had the awful realization, as I hobbled to my front door, that this quease would not pass in a few minutes. Guess what, it was saying. Still, I tried to ignore it and get ready for bed as if I were fine, la la la, but my stomach, she demanded my attention. Events were in motion. I could have stayed up all night gritting my teeth and willing myself to continue my decades-long streak, but I gave up. Let's see if this is as all magical as Henry says it is, I thought.
Now, here's the thing. The thing is. My brand-new downstairs neighbors had entered the building right before me. I saw them walking in as I paid for the cab. They turned and saw me. Then ten minutes later I clomped up the stairs in my boots and was … in the bathroom. The bathroom, wherein all sounds carry from apartment to apartment as clearly as if the person were standing right there next to you.
And you guys. I was SO LOUD. I was like a barfing cartoon character. I couldn't control it. I sounded like a muppet puking up major appliances. Like a tortured elephant. Like I was performing self-exorcism and Baalphegor himself had just emerged from my headholes. My husband tweeted about how I loud I was, is how loud. I'm surprised no one on my block called Animal Control.
I don't recall being this vocal when I was little. It was like the entire act was so unnatural to me that every part of my body had to get in on the action. I wasn't trying to be dramatic, but every time another wave came over me-- HEEEEEEEUUYYYOOOOOOOOOOO.
Okay, I need to relax, I thought. I'm just tense so my stomach is spasming and--
BLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRGHARGHARGHARG.
Scott was knocking on the door, asking if he could come in. I wanted to shout GO AWAY I'M A MONSTER but I didn't have the strength. I needed to save up all my vocal stylings for the next go-round.
GLOOOOOOORPAMOPHOOOOOUL.
As awful as I felt, part of me was cracking up, picturing my poor neighbors downstairs, merrily brushing their teeth after a night out, stopping to look at each other with alarm as their probably psychotic/bulimic neighbor upstairs performed what I'm sure they assume is her nightly ritual.
YAAAAAAAAAABLBLABLAAARRRRRRF.
Have I mentioned that I have not yet met my downstairs neighbors? Yeah. How do I introduce myself now? "Hey! Hello! You might remember me from such sounds as aaaWWWWRRRROOOUUUUUK. Ha, ha! Fun. Hey, hope I didn't ruin your night with my awful. Let me tell you what I ate last night and will never eat again! Where are you going?"
Fortunately the bout was over quickly. I don't think my vocal cords could have taken much more. While I can't say it was magical like Henry promised, I was not nearly as traumatized as I imagined I would be. Still, I think I'm good for another 33 years. Now I'm wondering if I should buy the neighbors some kind of housewarming gift. Maybe a nice gift bucket of corn chowder! No?
Reader Comments (76)
My fellow little emetophobes...how I have longed for your company! Alice, I knew I loved you, but this made me fall even deeper. I am known for my fear of the deed. I had a 21 year streak and on Dec 9th it ended. I have always been able to walk it off or talk myself out of it but alas...trying to fall asleep... I felt "not well". It escalated and next thing I know, I'm busting out into my back yard at midnight in the snow in my underwear, trying to lay on top of my stainless steal grill...for I don't know...a distraction technique? (It was very much an out of body experience). It wasn't pretty, it didn't work, my streak was over.
While I'm probably worse since that night...I'm so happy for you that you feel better!
[For the future, I tried to make the "only vomit in the woods behind the house" rule with my husband as to keep the vomit germs out of the house. He said no way. Hmpf.]
Ah, welcome back to the magical world of pukeage! I was puke-phobic until I got pregnant and morning/afternoon/evening sickness forced me to get over it. My first vomit episode occurred after my son's dad made me a blueberry smoothie. I projectile vomited blue goo while my now-ex stood outside the bathroom door. Really, it looked like the pie-eating contect scene from *Stand by Me*. Wild. I also got sick while a flight we were on was landing. The air pressure (?) and the force of the pukeage burst the capillaries in my eyes...so I had bloody red eyes the whole time were were visiting my now-ex's parents. So attractive. I just know it made them love me more. (!) The last time I barfed (still while pregnant), I had eaten pot roast on a night out alone, come home to find my now-ex asleep, and just walked around the living room with a paper grocery bag until the deed was done. Then I put the bag outside on the back porch (couldn't put it in the trash can because the yard was pitch black and unnavigable) and hoped a racoon wouldn't get it before I could wake up and dispose of it. GOOD TIMES, I'M TELLING YOU.
I totally want my class to read this when we study similes! The muppet appliance barf paints quite a picture.
I have been crying with laughter.
The comment of Scream Barfing sums up my husband perfectly. The first time I heard him puking I thought there was a monster in the bathroom. I have never heard anything so loud! Seriously. A monster.
Seasick on the Alaskan glacier cruise on our honeymoon, parked on the bench on the back of the boat wrapped in a damp wool blanket with five other sick people with the wind whipping the downpour around the boat and into us and it truly hits me- Heave from my toes... Sorry! I call to them. HEAVE! Sorry :-( HEAVE! Sorry :-((( Repeat. Fun day.
And don't worry about it! Apartment living is shared sound.
Besides, when I've heard apartment neighbors puking my response is usually more one of empathy. (and happiness it is not me ;-)
OMG I didn't know vomiting could be this hilarious. I also didn't realize that vomit sounds could be spelled out, but you seemed to have done it quite nicely. Here's to another 33 years vomit-free!
Alice, I haven't laughed this hard in a looooonng time. (Tears! Down my face! D thinks I've lost it!)
Damn, you're good.
I too am an Emetophobia (nice one Meredith...never heard that one before). It was a serious discussion between my husband and I before we married - I needed to know before we walked down the aisle....can you be the throw-up parent?
He is the throw-up parent.
I read this while eating my lunch yesterday. And with each sentence, the apple I was munching on began to congeal in the back of my throat and I was almost convinced I'd eaten a rotten apple. But I continued to read, because that's how much I love your writing.
I am laughing at your situation. I am sorry. But I am laughing. Laughing even at the thought of you desecrating the Muppets.
I had been married to my man for over 15 years before I ever heard him puke. I don't think he was afraid of puking; he just didn't have occasion to do so. It was shockingly LOUD. I tried to pretend it wasn't happening four rooms away, sitting there at the dinner table passing the salt, but it was SO LOUD that my son asked, "Is Daddy dying?"
I am reading this after cleaning up puke in my Honda. Because my 4 year old has the stomach flu. Holy hell. I had the same fear of puking...and truly I still do. It's terrifying! Then, when I was 7 months pregnant I had the stomach flu. NOTHING is more terrifying then puking your guts out over a big pregnant belly with your baby kicking inside you. ACK!
I am sorry you got sick. I think you should set some empty booze bottles outside your door so that your neighbors think you are just a boozefish.
Hope you are feeling better.
Best,
TIna
Both amusing and disgusting! I'm sorry your puke-free existence is over, but at least you got to traumatize some neighbors while you were at it.
In case you were wondering, this was my favorite line: "I sounded like a muppet puking up major appliances."
Absolutely incredible. Without sounding like a broken record to all of these marveIous comments, I am a puke-fearer myself and am just entering the horrific stages of first-trimester morning sickness. Oh PLEASE don't let me throw up--it's been almost 15 years.
If I DO happen to throw up during this stomach-gripping first trimester, I sincerly hope I make the sound "BLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRGHARGHARGHARG!"
HAHAHAHAHA i just laughed out loud extensively! not something that i think i've ever done with a puke story! oh man, veryvery v funny work ms bradley
I never knew that there was something like pukeophobia. Great that you got over it though.
Who knew puking stories could be so funny? Somebody needs to put these stories together and publish the Vomit Diaries... I haven't laughed this much in a while! Thanks for sharing!
I could SWEAR I was thinking of you puking exactly at the time you were actually puking. It was just the other day, that I started to feel ill, and I thought, I really do not want to throw up. It's been so long. I figure about 7 years. And then I thought (I kid you not), Alice Bradley has gone some decades without puking, and I hope to do the same. Perhaps it's creative memory, but I could swear it was on the 6th.
PUKE PSYCHIC!!!
P.S. my favourite word in the world, ever, for throwing up, is 'chunder'.
Wow, you guys. I didn't know there was such a thing as fear of puking until I met my daughter. She won't read a book if she knows a character in it throws up. She won't sit next to the boy who threw up on the first day of school. She claims to remember how every puke she's ever seen at school looked. She makes me promise her several times every morning that she won't throw up at school. Can you all start a support group for her?
On a related note, the first time this kid ever threw up was the only time I've been truly disgusted by puke. It went down my shirt. I had chunks of tangerine in my bra. Thanks for sharing my awful with me!
I definitely have a bit of a fear of throwing up myself. What it always was for me is the fact that you can't breathe while projectile vomitting. I made it a solid 10 years without ever puking but when I was pregnant I pretty much barfed nonstop for 5 straight months. What made the pregnancy vomit less horrible is that it wasn't like... projectiley? It was just like a quick little ::blork:: and that was it (you know, until 15 minutes later when I puked again). And I made sure to bitch nonstop so everyone knew it was PREGNANCY puking and not newly minted bulimia.
I have been a vomi-phobe since I was a child, and I might have made it to your record of not vomiting had I not lived in Mexico for a year. 10 years of complete and utter upper intestinal control went down the drain so fast. But why do our husbands insist on busting down the bathroom door when we're in the middle of the HEEEEEEEUUYYYOOOOOOOOOOO-ing? My more recent episodes have been pregnancy-related, and the one time my husband was actually aware that I was puking my guts out, he banged on the door demanding entrance and then tried to pour pepto and tums down my throat. Like he might be able to stop the vomiting mid-vomit. Kind of sweet but totally misguided.
What the what? I was sitting on a bus in the desert next to a fellow emetophobic? Truth: I was horrified about getting on that bus. Drunk people? In a bus? Rolling across the desert? It had random acts of puke written all over it. I sat next to you because you looked safe. (And are nice.) Good to know my puke sensors remain ultra sensitive and are in working order.
Fellow emetophobic here. I can count the number of episodes I have had on one hand: flu at six, flu at eight, bad med/alcohol interaction at 21, flu from nannying at 22, flu at 28. The episode at 22 was particularly bad - I held off as long as I could and then lost it right after guzzling some of my precious precious Pepto-Bismol. Was terrified of Pepto-Bismol for a few years afterward. The Scream Barfing phenomenon reminds me of the ONE time I went on a roller coaster - the louder you scream, the less your stomach jumps out of your face. Which is a propos, I guess.
LOL! For some reason I can totally relate to the sheer panic of throwing up. I, too, haven't barfed since "1978."