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| - This all started on one sunny day when my coworker and I had a craving for a burger and split a spicy chicken sandwich and a pork belly banh mi. Little did I know that that was the last peaceful lunch I'll ever have before my world (and body) fell apart.
Fast forward to 36 hours later on an early Sunday morning, my insides had a nuclear meltdown. I felt light headed after a night suffering through uncontrollable cold sweats. Then the cramps came which slowly increased in intensity much like the burning feeling of holding a plank indefinitely. Suddenly, a force to what felt like a punch to my stomach from the inside got me dashing straight to the toilet teary eyed. There I was, sitting there with arms wrapped around myself in pain and terror did my body try to purge the violence that was happening inside. The next 2 hours were indescribable but I was almost convinced that I was losing the fight against what I now called the devil's sandwiches and my insides were being utterly destroyed. I apologized to God for every sin I've ever committed, praying it was enough to make this all go away. It didn't. I almost blacked out. My heart rate and blood pressure hit record levels throughout the ordeal. To spare you any more graphic details, I'll sum it up to this: I dropped 3 lbs in 2 hours. Severely weakened, I carried on with the day slightly confused feeling a dull backache that lingered throughout. Fearing another meltdown, I avoided solid food as much as possible. That night, all hell broke loose again and I began to have a fever. As if that wasn't enough, I began to have an intense muscle ache radiating throughout my back putting me in a perpetual fetal position. Throughout the night, I was profusely sweating yet shivering mentally crying out for my mommy - perhaps her spidey senses would activate. Attempts at contorting my body into various positions to relieve my back pain failed. I did not sleep. By Monday, I was restless as I shakily texted my coworkers telling them I won't be in. If they didn't hear from me by Tuesday, send help. I drifted in and out of consciousness that day, lying in a bed of ice packs for brief bouts of relief. Fortunately, I survived the wrath of the devil's sandwiches by Tuesday. But know this, a shitty, dirty, sandwich reduced a full grown adult into a shadow of a person. You. Have. Been. Warned.
As a side note, my coworker also experienced a similar ordeal since we split the same sandwiches so I'm 99.9% sure it was this place.
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