Day from Hell

So, it's taken me a day to recover and I feel like I can share now.

A couple of weeks ago my trusted chiropractor suggested I try this "fitness program" that she and many of her patients were doing. I thought, you know, I've never done one of these things and I totally trust my chiro, so why not?

. . . now I know why not.

OK, so yesterday was my first day of the diet--Medifast. The idea is that you eat 5 Medifast meals and make your own dinner.

I began with the peach oatmeal. It took me over 30 minutes to eat it and I gagged twice.

2-3 hours later I ate the oatmeal and raisin bar . . . no gagging.

Later I made the soup which was bearable. I was beginning to think, hey, maybe I can do this.

Since I have a late class I met Andrea for a salad around 5pm and of course it was amazing because it was real food. I then went to class and sat for 2 hours of torture (but that's another story).

Innocently enough I boarded the 1 train at 116th Street. As the train was moving along I noticed that I was beginning to feel a little nauseous. I thought that once I got off the train at 96th Street to change to the 2/3 I would have a moment to regain my sea legs --maybe it was just motion sickness?




As I walked out of the train I realized that I was going to be sick . . . I ran to the trashcan at the 96th St. station and vomited!! And, let me tell you, those subway station trashcans are very high!! Oh, and don't worry, the station platform was PACKED, but at least I made it to the trashcan. Feeling miserable I decided that I could not get on the train right away. I left the station and called my mom. I always get so upset when I vomit --I think that's a psychological issue though!

OK, so my mom convinces me to take a taxi home to Brooklyn. It killed me, but I just couldn't imagine getting back on a train.

Around 84th Street I had to ask the kind cabby to pull over because I was going to be sick. I puked on 84th St. and I believe on Lexington Avenue (I wasn't really concentrating on street names).

I regained my composure and thought I would be fine.

This was the longest trip of my life. Suddenly on the Brooklyn Bridge I begin to sweat and feel really nauseous, but there is NOWHERE to pull over on a bridge. So, being resourceful, I remembered that I had a bowl in my backpack (from the soup) . . . uh, yeah, I puked like 4 more times in the bowl.

I finally got home, puked, and went to sleep.

Needless to say, my cabby was a saint and I will never eat that crap again.