G.I. Woes

Today was beautiful. Kat and I have been alternating between the white sand beach and our air conditioned cabin room. Reading books and drinking beer in ice cold mugs. Loving Pulao Pangkor, a small island on the west coast of Malaysia, and preparing to return to KL tomorrow. Perhaps this scene seems all the more idyllic considering two days ago all I wanted to do was lie in bed and go unconscious.

Sunday was a day that will live in Malaysia vacation infamy: Summer's gastro-intestinal revolt. I ate something bad Saturday night. I think it was the carrot, tomato, and cucumber vegetable shake. (Please don't remind me of my sordid history with raw carrots in Southeast Asia. I know I should have learned by now. I'm a carrot lover, drawn to the beta-carotene and orange goodness. I just forget that my stomach requires careful preparation of raw carrots. And without that proper attention, this otherwise healthy veggie turns my stomach upside down).

The attack began as Kat and I scurried to join the line to the KL Petronas Tower Skybridge. We left our hostel at 7:30 am--an ungodly hour in the morning for any vacationer. I felt my stomach churn, and I thought, "That's weird. Must be because I haven't had any coffee or breakfast." Oh, silly me. If only it had been that simple.

Two days before, I had almost fainted while viewing a reconstructed Malaysian house. And I hadn't been feeling like myself since arriving in KL--meaning, I had no appetite. At first I worried about this, then I just figured it best not to ask too many questions and see this as a way to save money and shed a few pounds. I think these odd spells for me had more to do with heat and humidity than my stomach itself.

But standing in line at 7:50 in the morning with 200 other strangers on Sunday, waiting for a ticket to see the city from the highest twin tower in the world, I realized that my stomach was the one to blame. I passed my bag to Kat and ran for the bathroom (which took 10 minutes to find). I quickly learned that I had some major gastro-intestinal issues.

Returning to Kat, I wondered why on earth the Petronas Towers had to subject normal people to such silly schemes. If they just sold the tickets, we would gladly pay. Anything to avoid having to stand in an s-shaped line, guarding your spot, sneering at would-be line-cutters--all while grimacing like someone was punching you. Wait--that was just me when the stomach cramps started. And they didn't stop. Even after Kat finally got the tickets (with me sitting on the crowded steps near the ticket office, praying that I didn't pass out or make a mess).

We had enough time to visit the bathroom before heading up to the Skybridge. Riding a high-speed elevator 41 stories in 41 seconds definitely required a lot of concentration on my part. Once we finally made it to the Skybridge, I was too busy hugging my stomach and softly groaning to say "This is it?" I'm sure it was beautiful, this view of KL from up high. But I was more concerned with trying to find a bathroom. Luckily, we were only allowed to stay on the Skybridge for 10 minutes, and upon heading back down, the attendant (who'd heard of my predicament from the attendant upstairs), showed me the nearest bathroom.

And thus began the theme of my third day in KL. After eating lunch nearby (I fasted), we headed back to the hostel. I spent the day in our "hospital room"--it was too dangerous to venture anywhere without a toilet within 10 feet. I begged Kat to shoot me. Kat thought the whole ordeal was funny at one point, and her laughing made me laugh, which only made my stomach cramp even worse.

Thankfully, the problem cleared up within 24 hours, with the help of some immodium. And I do have Kat to thank for putting up with me and my unsavory smells. And we have this beautiful island to enjoy now. Sans raw carrots.