I’d hate that! I don’t like being sick and incapacitated.
Still, I think I’d call the doctor or the nurse, but first, I’d try to figure out from which part of me the sickness is arising. Chances are, depending on the severity of it, I could do something about it until help could arrive.
ßlueyeʐ 💮’s poem, however, talks about hangovers. I don’t drink at all when alone, but sometimes, I take a sip or two with company, only to be companionable. I don’t even like what that little sip of alcohol does to my senses or to my stomach, either. So, I can understand how bad a hangover can be. I’ve seen people suffer from it.
Why bring something so atrocious onto oneself, unless the person is a masochist?
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