...simply makes you long for the sweet release that death would surely bring. My gastroenterofuckedness only lasted for about 24 hours, so whatever caused it seems to have been cast out of my soul now. But the after-effects of a gut-gone-wrong are no picnic. I'm still chugging the Gatorade (distant memories of OHSS and retrievals haunting me...) but solid food has regained its appeal.
Now, if I could just make myself look forward to another work week.