The one time I wanted to do something good with my life.. I fell ill.

I know, I know, being sick is like news older than I like small kids. No, I'm kidding, I don't like small kids that way.

My temperature on Monday morning and we talking, 5 in the goddamn early morning was 38.9. And I was damn terrified cause I thought shit, this has got to be swine flu. This must be H1N1. I'm gonna die. Oh my god, I don't want to die. Thank god, I don't have to take Mid Years.

And I kept silent until 8 something cause I swear if you put marshmallow near me, it'd barbeque just nice. Then I felt one thing that scared the living hell out of me.

My stomach grew like 382974182974098274 inches overnight.

And my left kidney and back hurts so bad, I wanted to cry. And damn, you know that's serious cause I don't cry for nothing. Except for Finding Nemo and Lion King.

All that wasn't the problem. The trouble began only when my mom knew about it.

"Take panadol now. I don't care now. Go lie down. Don't wear your sweater. Don't cover yourself with your blanket. I don't care if you're cold. Nvm, I lie down with you."

At night, my temperature rose to 39.2 and I, in every sense of the word, was hot. Went clinic and all and guess what. It wasn't H1N1 or anything so mild like that.

Diagnosis: Constipation.

It got so bad that I actually had a fever from it. And I clean forgotten the last time I did it that it eventually caught up with me.

So long story short, I had to take 6 constipation skill cause apparently the 1 pill that will sure push all the shit away didn't take effect. So was the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th. That was how terrible it was.

Then finally, last night, I vomitted the whole of the bathroom floor and my stomach deflated substantially. And early this morning, I had the best bowel movement in forever that my stomach was a-ok, temperature became normal and I am good.

So moral of the story boys and girls, take your fibre. And keep track of your bowel movements cause they may track you down and make you pay.

It hurts, I swear.