What's Up, Doc?

I already told myself a million times that I'll never ever take any advice from Google whenever I feel something unusual in my body. It's a terrible idea. But if you knew me very well, then you'd know what I would do. And I did what I shouldn't have.

I have a pancreafuckintitis.

That's according to Google - who also once diagnosed me with deep vein thrombosis. And cancer. And brain tumor.

But the incoming days are more daunting, these cyber-diagnosis couldn't really bother me. After that short and successful public speaking stint, I'll be talking again in front of a much larger crowd and the thing is, I do not have a topic yet. Showing up unprepared in front of eager guests and big time companies is a fate far worse than pancreatitis. Humiliation just might kill me.

Anyway, I only have two days to prepare. That would have been good enough to get my 15-minute speech and slideshow presentation done if I didn't have deadlines to beat and a stomach ache to pay attention to.

Jan has been convincing me to go and see a doctor. But there's a reason why home remedies from the internet exists, right? Like how rubbing Vicks vaporub on the eyelids can help you sleep at night. LOL

Oh, internet. You never fail to amuse me.