Bring it on, Salmonella!

In a total failure of my upbringing (wife bootcamp), I just ate two heaping spoonfuls of raw chicken. That's right. Raw, Salmonella-lovin' chicken. Loved every bite of it. Licked my lips and wished there was more.

How did this happen, you ask? (considering I don't eat meat) Well, my cousin left behind a chicken concoction that my aunt sent over. The chicken was creamed and whipped up with tasty herby goodness. It looked so much like salmon salad that my thought process was basically: Looks like salmon, must be edible right out of the container. Let's put some of that bad boy on a bagel.

Then I had a wonderful evening until my aunt called and asked me how long I cooked the chicken and I said, "what chicken?" Through the power of suggestion, I started to throw up a little in my mouth.

Based on my consultation with WebMD, and several other websites that came up when I googled "I ate raw chicken," it seems I have approximately 24 hours before my body may be totally rocked inside-out by malignant bacteria. Oh, and I may die. Though I'm hoping that years of eating food that has been on the floor longer than 10 seconds will help me on this one.

Also, as soon as I realized my error I did a shot of Jack Daniels. My Dad always said that whiskey meant death to evil bacteria.

My newfound online compatriots who also tried a little "land sushi" and reached out for help, didn't get quite as encouraging a reponse. (although, to be fair, some MySpace dude ate a whole raw chicken for $100 - which is a whole other kind of stupid.)

So, in honor of my somewhat amusing domestic failure, and because I love a good survey:

What do you think will happen to me over the next 72 hours?

a. Nothing

b. Maybe a little retching, but nothing unladylike

c. Something like eating bad Chinese. (We've all been there.)

d. My intestines will betray me, my stomach will convulse, and I'll feel like I drank a gallon of Mexican tapwater and chased it with ipecac.

e. Everything in option "d," but throw in some avian flu.