Montezuma's Revenge

The beginning of 2009 rolled around and I started to think about where to spend my hard earned cash and vacation days. Opportunity presented itself right away with a trip to an all-inclusive resort in Cancun, Mexico! My friend Joan finally was able to wrangle some vacation time for herself (she works as a equine veterinarian) and wanted to go somewhere with a beach, was warm, and had a continuous flow of frosty beverages. After some online research, she booked a trip for her, myself and another vet Lauren, and we started dreaming of lazy days by the pool and long nights at the bars. We found a great deal for 4 nights at the Royal Solaris in the Hotel Zone in Cancun. God, I felt like I was heading out to the spring break I never had in college!

After a connecting flight in Miami, we arrived in Cancun to balmy breezes and lots of sunshine. Ah. We were taken to our resort and we were practically jumping for joy at the great views from our room (free upgrade!) and the knowledge that the only thing we all had to do for the next 5 days was eat, drink and lay around and do nothing.

The day we arrive was very relaxing so Joan and I decided to kick it up a notch on Tuesday. We drank beers, rum runners, margaritas, tequila shots, rainbow shots, wine, etc in various amounts throughout the day, all day long. Needless to say we got hammered as one does when you have nothing to do and you are sitting by crystal blue waters, letting your cares melt away.

Fast forward to about 4am. I awaken in bed and I am beginning to feel a bit sour in the tummy area. This is odd as I never get sick from overindulgence of alcohol. All of a sudden I ran to the bathroom and unload my guts in the sink. Holy christ it was violent. I finished and crawl back into bed, not realizing this was just the beginning of my new Mexican adventure. Joan later nominates me as "Hero of the Year" so not dislodging my stomach all over our shared bed.

Wednesday morning. Ugh. Classic hangover, but I wasn't surprised. Hey! I just remembered I puked so I should feel awesome right? Wrong, it's a classic 4-star hangover, bordering on a 5-star hangover, much like the one I experienced after Mancini's birthday a few years back (just thinking about that one makes me shudder). I usually want a big greasy breakfast after a night of boozin' to set my stomach straight, but I can't even fathom the thought of food. "Great, way to ruin a perfectly good day!" I thought to myself. I eventually slather on some sunblock and head on down to the pool, where I lay on my chair continuing to feel awful. Even though I feel rotten I manage to book a dive trip for the morning since I figured a good night's rest will have me feeling right as rain by morning. I stay in for the night, kinda mad at myself for not being able to take advantage of the food and drink, but manage to scarf down a banana and fall asleep while Joan and Lauren head out. The banana doesn't stay in for long...

Thursday comes and holy shit, can it be possible that I feel worse? I quickly decide that the dive trip was off and unfortunately I can't get a refund for it, so this REALLY peeves me to no end. Again, I have no appetite for food or drink and it takes a monumental effort to get up, shower and get myself to the pool area to hang out with Joan and Lauren. What the hell is going on? My lower abdomen is rumbling like it is going to explode and the scene in Alien when the alien bursts out of John Hurt's chest came to mind many times. Did I finally ruin myself after years of flooding my body with alcohol? This cannot possibly be a hangover, it has to be something more serious. I start to run a fever and get a bad case of the chills. Shit.

Come 5pm I said screw this, I'm calling a doctor. There is absolutely no way I can lay there and feel that horrible any longer. The resort doctor, Dr. Dominguez, arrives and I begin telling him my woeful symptoms and he just smiles reassuringly at me. I have the dreaded traveler's diarrhea AKA "Montezuma's Revenge"! Joan and Lauren attentively listen to the prognosis and outline of treatment for me, which will include 5 injections of antibiotics, antacids, and an anti-nausea medication that Joan swore would "help everything go the same way." I really didn't care if this guy was going to shoot me up with Colombian heroin, I was going to feel better soon! The doctor inquires as too why I waited so long to call for his help, but I told him I just thought it was a nasty hangover and didn't think anything of it. Was it the food? Booze? Water? The resort had signs that all the water was purified, but who knows. I just couldn't believe I ran around SE Asia last year with hardly a sore throat and I hit up a modern resort in Mexico and it all goes to shit...literally.

A few hours later the meds kick in and I'm able to sit up and watch a little TV, which at the time was a huge relief. Joan and Lauren went off to explore the nightlife at Coco Bongos and I was seriously bummed I couldn't go. I went to bed and looked forward to not feeling like holy hell in the morning. I woke up clearly felt better, but was not out of the woods just yet. Dr. Dominguez called to see how I was doing and I opted to get the 2nd round of shots to make sure whatever was in my body had zero chance to survive. Screw those f**kers! We gather up our luggage and make our way to the airport to start the journey home to Philly. Boo. It was still great to hang out with Joan and I made a friend in Lauren so all was not lost, but I still left feeling a bit cheated.

So there you have it, my awesome Mexican vacation virtually down the tubes due to some bacteria going bat-shit crazy in my intestines. Can I get a do-over for this trip?