I had a horrible experience with something I ate a couple months ago that ended much like yours did. I exerted myself so hard over the toilet that night that I broke the capillary blood vessels in my face leaving it red and patchy. I figure I looked more or less really hungover the next day, with a cold sweat coating my brow. The best part is that I had to put on my suit and head off to a job interview for an engineering consultant, and one I rather hoped to be successful with. I was going to tell them that I was ill if anything was asked, but it didn’t come up. Needless to say, I didn’t get the job, and I think it was for the same reason you weren’t called again for that gig.

It does remind me of a not-so-funny story…When I was in the Air Force Honor Guard, there were often trips taking us half-way across Iowa or Nebraska to some small town, in order to perform a funeral. When we’d travel that far, often times we would come up the night before, stay in a hotel, then perform the funeral the next day, and roll out back to Omaha. Well, some of the younger Airmen would usually find a bar to pick up the local women, drink to excess, and slog through the next morning. One time, apparently strawberry margaritas were in the mix. One guy had so many that we had to basically break into his room in the morning to wake him up. We got him ready, dragged him downstairs, and about half-way to the church, he suddenly has to throw-up. Note that at this point, we’re all in full dress uniform, about 5 minutes from the church, and he’s sitting in the middle seat in the back of this huge Dodge Ram-Van. You have never seen so many people dive out of the way so quickly.
Not to go too far into it, but he almost made it without nailing anyone. He got two people besides himself.
I happened to be sitting right next to him, and although it wasn’t visibly noticeable (thankfully), I smelt like rotten strawberries for the entire service, the funeral, and the road back to the hotel. I haven’t had a strawberry since.

The punch-line is that my performance that day was probably my best ever.

Just a thought, here, and not to be too gross, but if that had been me— at the first sign of distress, I would have “hurried” the process along myself (I’m a recovered bulemic if you get my drift)–
I had a similar (non-performance related) experience after eating at a national seafood chain. I think heading it off at the pass helped.