“Are you sure it’s food poisoning?” She nods, eyes closed. “Yeah, I’ve had it before a couple times.” “What are your symptoms?” “Look at me,” she replies weakly, gesturing to her half naked body slumped on the floor. “Okay…well, so vomiting, obviously,” I say, ticking it off on my finger. “Chills and sweating. Any nausea?” “Yes,” she groans, crawling back into position, her hands bracing against the toilet bowl. “And stomach cramps. It feels like someone’s squeezing them in a tight fist—urghh—”
