The things you miss

So last night was one of those nights that I missed being in America. It wasn't sentiment or homesickness. It was pepto-bismol. The hows-whys-and-whats of Moscow food is an ongoing adventure. I've already had several bouts of food poisoning and other stomach ailments. Sometimes, the local flora and fauna don't agree with my sensitive system. Ask my dad: he paid for me to go deep sea fishing off of Balboa Island, California and I spent the day heaving my guts into the Pacific. I had a sense of humor about it. What's not to laugh about being on a small boat with your fellow fisherman watching your humiliation in real time. My gastrointestinal system is not lined with cast-iron (unlike my husband who seems to be a human garbage disposal). Yesterday my system decided it didn't like me. I managed fine. Did my homework. Took a quiz (90%!). Made dinner without too much fuss (hamburger kebabs with paneer makhani). The mistake may have been eating dinner. The Indian food may have done me in because lo around 1AM, I was up for the rest of the night, the burped up taste of cumin swelling in the back of my throat. In the interest of avoiding sharing "too much information," let me just say that three lomotil and 1 narcotic containing pain reliever later, I still was spending far too much time reading in the middle of the night instead of sleeping. I have an appointment at school today--one I've had for three weeks--and a Russian class. I can't afford to sit around babysitting my insides. Around 4AM, I decided I would try pepto-bismol. I anxiously tore through the bags of medical supplies i brought back from the states, searching for the magic pink stuff. Nada. I checked my cupboards. Nada. I checked the girls cupboards. Nada. I knew I'd bought it. Where was it? It's not like I have car and can zip over to the closest 24 hr. grocery store for a refill. I can't call my neighbor at 3AM to ask her to drive me to the closest all-night "apteka" (pharmacy) and hope that my only choice isn't some Russian voodoo potion. Wondering if my doom was to be sleeping on the bathroom floor, I gave my search one more shot. I finally found about 8 loose chewable tabs in the bottom of a ziploc bag. I tore open two of them, scarfed them down and waited. The precious remaining 6 tabs have yet to be consumed. So far, so good. I'm going to school armed with my arsenal of digestive aids. I really miss having an access to an unlimited source of pepto-bismol. I fully admit that I would be a lousy pioneer. The one everyone would have to wait for while she found the tallest bush to drop her drawers behind or the one who had to periodically pause the handcart to toss her lunch into the muddy wagon wheel ruts. For this weakness, I apologize to my ancestors. But my daughter is totally bringing me loads of pepto when she comes for Christmas break.