Feeling Good - The Story of Sam & Henry

Chapter 21 - Two Sips

(Tuesday 5:27 am)

Oysters.

As I lay there in the fetal position, my insides swirling and twirling, my mouth and my anus both vying for who could emit the smelliest liquid at the most inopportune moment, my mind kept going back to oysters.
~~
I had told Chef Simon that something didn't seem right with the oysters. Karl had signed for them on Sunday, but when I got to work on Monday and went in to the walk-in refrigerator to take some inventory, something just seemed off. It wasn't so much that they smelled, because of course they did, they're oysters, but they just didn't look right. Simon came with me into the walk-in to examine them and cracked open three shells at random. He smelled them first, then using an oyster knife shucked each oyster expertly one at a time. He ate one, I ate one and then he ate another one. They tasted fine.

He looked at me, "Karl isn't here, it's your call, what do you want to do?"

"I don't want to use them," I said. My gut was telling me that these oysters were bad, and I always listened to my gut.

He thought about it for a minute, then shook his head. "Use them, but if you find a bad one, shut it down and call me ok?"

"Yes Chef," I said, and we walked back into the main kitchen.
~~
I was pulled out of my homicidal reverie by my phone. It was Henry.

"Hey Sam, I just pulled up to the hospital, how are you feeling."

"Like I want to kill my boss."

"Take three sips for me, ok?"

I took three sips.

"You were muttering something about oysters, is that what you think caused this?"

I nodded, but then realized that he couldn't hear that and said, "yes, it was definitely the oysters."

"I looked some stuff up about oyster food poisoning and mostly it is self-limited, but sometimes it can be caused by a nasty bacterium called Vibrio vulnificans, so you need to tell me if you're feeling worse, ok?"

"Ok."

"How many times have you gone to the bathroom since I left?"

"Twice."

"Take two more sips."

I took two more sips.

"I should be home relatively early tonight, it's a clinic day for me, so maybe home by 5:30-6. Although, I'm stopping by the grocery store to pick some things up after work, so maybe 6:15. Sam, you still there?"

"Yes," I said, "I'm just tired. Thanks for your help this morning. That was really embarrassing for me and I appreciate that you weren't flustered."

"Do you know how many times I have been shit, peed, puked and bled on? Too many to count. At least it was your vomit. And Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Take two more sips."

I took two more sips.

"Ok hon, I gotta run, I'll call you soon. Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone, clutching the metal bowl closer to me and returned to a restless half-sleep where I dreamt I was chasing Simon with an oyster knife.

(Tuesday 6:45 am)
The phone rang again and I picked it up but didn't say anything because I knew it was Blue Eyes.

"Hey, I don't have long, just wanted to remind you to take two sips... ok I gotta run. Two sips Sam!" he said, and then hung up.