Feeling: ancient
Listening to: Evanescence - Lies
Reading/Watching: homework. sigh.

For some reason or another, I have an ulcer. Seriously. I am a forty-five-year-old male stockbroker.

At first, about a month back, I thought I might be pregnant, because my stomach was upset at the same time every day, killing my appetite, and I was about a week late (while on the pill). Two weeks late, my "little friend" arrived, short and piddly- two days.

I bought a pregnancy test at a Super Target on my way to grad class, heart pounding. I took the first one in the bathroom at the music building. The second, I tested in the ladies' room of a Wendy's. Both came out negative.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I told mon coeur, who had begun to raise eyebrows at my continued lack of appetite and weird, moody behavior. I felt stupid for wanting to hide it from him, half afraid I'd scare him and half afraid he'd get all excited.

Weeks passed, and my stomach was still irritable, killing my appetite and making my throat burn from reflux (yay for excessive medical details!), until yesterday, when I began to wonder. I looked up the symptoms, and most of them matched. That night, I woke up three separate times because my stomach was churning so hard, and I was pretty convinced.

Today, during my first class, I felt a sudden stab in my upper abdomen, followed by the same telltale stomach grinding. It. is. not. fun.

Seriously, it's starting to hurt more than annoy, and now I have to give up acidic/spicy foods and sodas and caffeine (dear God save me) for several weeks and dose myself on Zantac 150 and Prilosec in an attempt to eradicate it. Expensive, tasteless, and annoying.

Mon coeur made me promise that if it hasn't improved by the time I take a day off to sing for Rosh Hashanah (September 30th), I'll finish the gig and go see a doctor that afternoon.

Bleh. Twenty-six years old, and I have a fricking ulcer. I feel like I should be applying for Social Security.

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