How I survived Ecoli

I know you are asking yourselves... "wait wasn't the King supposed to talk about Real Kung Fu tonight?" I was. Then it hit me. I saw a CNN article on ecoli and realized there's a far more serious topic to discuss: How I survived Ecoli.

For those of you who don't know Ecoli is a flesh eating sickness. It gets into your blood by inhaling the air of infected rat fleas... or in my case, by eating bad hot dogs.

There I was, so long ago, at one of my old jobs... in a meeting and I had been feeling sick all day. I was pumping out green runs, if you know what I mean son.

Then these guys in the meeting started talking about throwing up. About being sick. It hit me. BAM!!! I ran out of the meeting. I knew then and there I had Ecoli. It was all over the news. Dog food, and hotdogs had been infected. I had just eaten a hotdog... and how I was heaving.

Well I didn't actually heave. But I almost did. Especially as I thought real hard about the vomit stories. Normally I can handle that shit. But now with Ecoli in my body I was weak and broken down.

Outside the meeting room I found a old rag someone left near the printer. I grabed it and held it to my nose. I guess it was covered in printer toner. Someone must have used it to clean the printer. All of a sudden I was able to hold the vomit back. The toner smell must have done the trick.

I muscled up and staggered back into the meeting... "Boss, I got ecoli!" With that I was told to go to a Doctor... But doctors don't know shit, Trust me. I KNOW.

It became evident my situation was DEAD serious. Ecoli is serious shit. So I went to a local Longs Drug store and walked up to the counter at the pharmacy. This white chick was behind the counter and she's talking really fast, and then and there I let loose. I puked. I vomited buckets all over her counter. Ugly chunks of ham, and cheese splattered all over the place. Kernels of corn were stuck everywhere with my stomach juice. The smell was rancid. It smelled like dog shit.

"I got ecoli!"

That's all it took to get some action going. The REAL pharmacist came running out (the REAL pharmacist is the asian guy who hangs out in the back - they only come out when needed, so make a commotion if you don't see an asian pharmacist up front. Don't mess with the white folk) and he handed me some loose change and a bottle of some miracle drug. They were all over the situation. Within half an hour they had me out the door and in my car.

I threw up a few more times. But that miracle bottle he gave me saved my life. I dont know what he put in the bottle of Nyquil but it did the trick... I could barely keep my eyes open to drive to the Fergie concert! But I made it. I also had change from the Pharmasist. I dont know why he gave it to me, but it covered street parking. Damn Straight. You don't get that full service from no hospital.

I've had EKJ's, Brain Scans, Treadmill tests... that shit sucks ass. It tells NOTHING. You need a real worker... someone who's been in the trenches, to really figure out what the fuck is wrong with ya.

The stuff the pharmacist gave me worked wonders, it TOTALLY nuked the Ecoli. The next day I was shit tired. But I got to work. Ecoli had lost! Totally my boss was shocked. So were my co-workers. They were like "Ecoli kills people!" Damn straight. But I'm the King. I had God on my side. One time I died and came back... more on that later, for now let's give reverence to whom it's due... The Pharmasicst... without whom I may not have survived Ecoli.

Let that be a lesson son. Who needs doctors when you have reliable pharmacists that will pick up the slack of a overworked ER!