I missed the final regular season TTZ event at Waco yesterday. I’m pretty bummed about it. It was a very tough decision since I knew that if we missed it, we wouldn’t qualify to fish the championship. We’re going to miss the championship now. Freakin’ sucks. Yesterday, I woke up at about 1 AM feeling really nauseous. I knew instantly what was wrong. Food poisoning. It was those dang homemade potstickers. I haven’t thrown up in probably 7-8 years. As I made my way to the bathroom I thought, ok, maybe if I can just throw up, I’ll feel better and everything will be fine. Sure enough, I threw up, and well… only kind of felt better. I went back to bed hoping that with a little more sleep I’d wake up at 2 AM, which was when my alarm was set to wake up to get ready to leave for Waco, and that I would feel ok. When the alarm went off at 2, I really didn’t feel much better. As I got ready to leave, I kept having to go back to the bathroom because I kept thinking I was going to throw up. My mind kept going back and forth about what to do, and finally after a 30 minute battle of not throwing up, I told myself, I haven’t thrown up yet, just tough it out and see what happens. I figured if I could just make it to pick up my tournament partner, Stephen, then I could have him drive the truck the 2 hours to Waco and I could try to get some sleep and hopefully feel better by the time we got to Waco. I went outside, hooked up the trailer, put the truck in drive, and went… nope, here it comes. I rushed back inside and threw up again. I sat in the bathroom for another 10 minutes, bolstered myself up again, and went back to the truck. I CAN DO THIS. I made it 3 minutes down the road, trying to push off the nausea. Nope, here it comes again. I pulled over into a church parking lot, stumbled out of the truck, and held onto a tree while my body purged more of last night’s dinner. I laid there in the dark parking lot for 5 minutes before I finally admitted defeat. I can’t do this. As I laid there, I thought, Heavenly Father, surely there’s a reason for this. Surely You have some wise purpose for me not fishing this tournament. You know that this was the only way I was going to not go. A simple spiritual prompting telling me to not go wouldn’t have been enough. I’m pretty stubborn like that when it comes to fishing and especially a tournament. I don’t know what His wise purpose was, but I trust that there was one. I finally called Stephen as I laid there in this parking lot to give him the news. It ain’t happening today. Sorry man, go back to bed.
I made my way back home and spent the rest of the night in and out of the bathroom. As I write this now, it’s Sunday morning, the day after. The last 24 hours has been hell, but I think it’s mostly over. I’ll tell you what, I am going to be a food sanitation freak from now on. Food poisoning, never, ever, again.
I still have no idea what His wise purpose was in me missing that tournament and therefore the championship, and I may never know, but I do trust that there was one. He knows best. He always does, and things always have a tendency to work out.
I think I’ll go fishing tomorrow.
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