Went to the ER yesterday after not being able to keep fluids down for seven hours -- a history of kidney stones means you get extra cautious about dehydration. As it turned out, that's when the vomiting stopped, which was one reason I waited four hours before they called my name. Seeing who they let in ahead of me (including the guy actually having a kidney-stone attack), I couldn't get too upset. That's why they call it triage. When they did let me in, I got just what I'd hoped for, a couple of bags of IV fluids and an anti-emetic that pretty much put paid to the leftover nausea.
When I got home was when I noticed the fever (they never took my temp at the ER, which surprised me a little). Slept a few hours, puttered a bit, slept a few more hours, called work to let them know I wouldn't make it in, called my regular doctor for an appointment, slept a few more hours, went to the appointment. Got Cipro. Came home, puttered, slept, puttered, watched the Astros lose after being one strike away from going to the World Series for the first time ever, and am now going to watch some Firefly until it's time for the next dose of NyQuil, which will not so coincidentally also be bedtime again. (I shoulda just slept after the first dose and missed the game. It would have been much better for my blood pressure...)