Starbucks is currently running a contest among its partners. We try out all the new, secret frappuccino flavors, and I guess that the most popular flavor gets put on the menu? Maybe? All I know is there’s a chart where you write which one is your favorite. So far I’ve tried Lemonade Frappuccino (meh) and Cinnamon Bun Frappuccino (white mocha was overpowering — caramel would have been better). Today I decided to try out the Red Velvet Frappuccino. Red Velvet is actually regular chocolate dyed red, but I figured that wouldn’t be a big deal. I would just replace it with white chocolate mocha.
So I measured out and then poured in the milk, ice, base, 3 pumps of white mocha, 2 pumps of vanilla, 1 pump of raspberry, and then I hesitated. The recipe called for frappuccino chips, which are just chunks of dark chocolate. I considered. On the one hand, they’re chocolate, and that could make me sick. On the other hand, the recipe called for the chips, I had already deviated from the recipe, and I have chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream without any problem. So I tossed two scoops of chips into the blender as well.
This was a mistake. Within an hour I started feeling a little dizzy. I started getting a little achey in the head. I thought eating lunch would make me feel better — get more things in my system that aren’t chocolate. I was wrong. By the time I came back from lunch, I felt worse, and the longer I stood on my feet the weaker and achier I felt. I could feel my stomach swarm. I asked permission to leave, got it, and left with three hours left in my shift.
Today is James’ day off, and he was confused when I got home. When I told him that I had eaten chocolate, he looked concerned at the garbage bag in my hand. “Oh, no, those are coffee grounds for the garden,” I said. “I wouldn’t bring home a bag of my own vomit.”
“I thought you had gotten sick on your clothes and had borrowed someone’s to get home,” he said.
I handed over my card and asked him to buy gas for my car. I had been planning on filling up the tank, but I had driven straight home instead.
I laid in bed with my heating pad and let my legs and shoulders stick out. I couldn’t look at the ceiling fan. The movement made me sick. I sat in bed and burped and winced in pain every time my head moved.
James brought me water and some painkillers. After a while I felt okay enough to move to the second bedroom, which doesn’t have a ceiling fan, so I could look around the room if I wanted to.
This food sensitivity was diagnosed twenty years ago. For twenty years now, I’ve been so good. I’ve avoided chocolate and yellow cheese and hot dogs. I’ve found other foods that make me sick, like pepperoni, sausage, and anything from Subway (although they don’t make me feel as sick as those chips made me feel). Like I said before, I eat chocolate chip cookie dough, and I’ve even eaten ice cream sandwiches without a problem. I haven’t had a reaction like this in twenty years.
I actually felt a little scared when I was laying in bed. I hadn’t dealt with this in so long. I had almost become convinced that I didn’t have the food sensitivity anymore. I don’t know what would happen. What did I do when I was feeling so sick? I remember laying in bed with the covers over my head. How long would this last? Would there be long stretches of pain? Did I feel this hot inside when I was eight? Would I be able to keep anything down?
So far I’ve kept the painkillers down. I’m just laying on the futon now. I’m going to write some more of the fairy tale story. I was having trouble for a while, feeling blocked because I couldn’t figure out how to make the physician interesting. Which was weird, because he’s an unimportant character. But I did some research on humorism and bloodletting, and I feel more comfortable now. I can write again. Maybe I’ll work on Pizza Boy too. I’ll have some soup tonight, and I should be okay by tomorrow.