Chifa

Had reason to learn about food poisoning today after foolishly visiting the local "Chifa" restaurant (as they call Chinese food here in Lima) last night. Apparently a splitting headache can indeed be a symptom of food poisoning, though given how fast it (and the other symptoms, most of which have abated as of the time of this writing) hit me, perhaps this time my affliction is not of a bacterial or viral origin. In any case, a few mysteries have been cleared up: What I got from a Burger King in London in 1997 when I thought I might need a blood transfusion was E. Coli. What I got from a Steak and Shake last year in Tampa when I felt like rabid hungry feral dogs were tearing away at my insides was likely Salmonellae. What I had oftentimes in Iraq and Afghanistan and which led to a number of comical (at my expense) moments was probably Shigella. And what I have now I’m guessing is...well, I don't know. But what I do know is this whole day reminds me of why I don't "overdrink" anymore, as today has been remarkably reminiscent of a bad hangover, though I would been more valiant at fighing through a hangover than I have been in dealing with this. Chifa…nevermore.