Ugh.

Well, that was unpleasant.

My father has, as previously predicted, been transferred to Green Valley Rehab. I'll be going to see him tomorrow, once I feel better myself.

Stomach flu or just a really bad case of indigestion, I'm not sure; I spent the night thrashing about my hurting tummy, believing in my delirium that I was being spread over about a dozen adjacent realities, with each overlapping iteration of myself designated by a little number in brackets after his name. I finally threw up at about 8 am and felt better, relatively speaking; called in sick to work (and how) and tried to get some sleep. Woke up again at 11 or so with more pain, despite my now-empty stomach, and tottered down to the corner store to get some Tums. That seems to have done the trick. I'm still spending a lot of time in the bathroom as my system finishes purging itself, but things are coming back to equilibrium at last.

So I guess the lesson is (assuming it wasn't food poisoning) not to pour 20 ounces of Coca-Cola on top of most of a pizza and then try to go to bed.