Thar They Blow!
Um. Hi.
By my calculations, I have approximately 15 hours until I start vomiting so hard my toenails come up and my gut starts cramping badly enough to make me weep. Then I will run a decent fever and sleep like the dead.
But 24 hours later, I should be good to grimly stand.
It's always fascinated me how predictable a gastroenteritis bug is. How it hits in waves, sparing those who dodged it the first exposure through immunity or proper hand washing, laying low those who didn't. Hitting those who then got cocky the second time around.
I'm pretty sure Colin got it from the zoo on Thursday, as that was our only outing. That or the restaurant where he got his celebratory Oreo sundae afterward, to fanfare in the first day of school on Friday. I'd love to blame some evil classmate from Friday, but I think that it's just too short an incubation.
At 2am, Saturday, he woke Charles and I, telling us he had a stomach ache. Charles set up camp on the living room couch and I curled next to the sad boy in our bed. At 2:01, he started dashing to the toilet and didn't stop for about 6 hours. Then, he slept and spiked a fever. He looked pasty until he went to sleep last night and woke better this morning.
At 3am, today (Sunday), Sara did the same. Vomiting commenced at 3:01.
So far, Charles and I are fine. At least I think he's fine, he's out running errands. There's a barf bag in the car.
So, at present, I feel like a condemned woman. Counting the hours. Musing on whether I should choose something I don't care for as my last meal or if I should eat something I crave frequently, like a cheeseburger, fries and hunk of chocolate fudge cake. If I choose the former, I reason, I won't develop an aversion to something that I care about, but if I choose the latter, not only will the calories be 'free' (as they'll be in the toilet), with any luck, I won't feel the urge to eat any of that for years to come.
Hey, it happened with calzone. And that one Thai noodle dish.
The only thing I am hoping for is that, if I am to get this, it hits me on schedule, tonight, so I can spend Labor Day Monday cursing my existence, and not either a work day (I don't have sick days. Apparently, those who work with the sick aren't supposed to get sick. Perhaps it is thought that our moral fiber or our disinfectant hand gel is superior to such things. Or perhaps the powers that be don't subscribe to the germ theory of infection.) or a day that I'm home alone with an energetic 3-year-old with a reconstituted immunity and a large, vibrant puppy.
Please, oh please, hit me tonight.
By my calculations, I have approximately 15 hours until I start vomiting so hard my toenails come up and my gut starts cramping badly enough to make me weep. Then I will run a decent fever and sleep like the dead.
But 24 hours later, I should be good to grimly stand.
It's always fascinated me how predictable a gastroenteritis bug is. How it hits in waves, sparing those who dodged it the first exposure through immunity or proper hand washing, laying low those who didn't. Hitting those who then got cocky the second time around.
I'm pretty sure Colin got it from the zoo on Thursday, as that was our only outing. That or the restaurant where he got his celebratory Oreo sundae afterward, to fanfare in the first day of school on Friday. I'd love to blame some evil classmate from Friday, but I think that it's just too short an incubation.
At 2am, Saturday, he woke Charles and I, telling us he had a stomach ache. Charles set up camp on the living room couch and I curled next to the sad boy in our bed. At 2:01, he started dashing to the toilet and didn't stop for about 6 hours. Then, he slept and spiked a fever. He looked pasty until he went to sleep last night and woke better this morning.
At 3am, today (Sunday), Sara did the same. Vomiting commenced at 3:01.
So far, Charles and I are fine. At least I think he's fine, he's out running errands. There's a barf bag in the car.
So, at present, I feel like a condemned woman. Counting the hours. Musing on whether I should choose something I don't care for as my last meal or if I should eat something I crave frequently, like a cheeseburger, fries and hunk of chocolate fudge cake. If I choose the former, I reason, I won't develop an aversion to something that I care about, but if I choose the latter, not only will the calories be 'free' (as they'll be in the toilet), with any luck, I won't feel the urge to eat any of that for years to come.
Hey, it happened with calzone. And that one Thai noodle dish.
The only thing I am hoping for is that, if I am to get this, it hits me on schedule, tonight, so I can spend Labor Day Monday cursing my existence, and not either a work day (I don't have sick days. Apparently, those who work with the sick aren't supposed to get sick. Perhaps it is thought that our moral fiber or our disinfectant hand gel is superior to such things. Or perhaps the powers that be don't subscribe to the germ theory of infection.) or a day that I'm home alone with an energetic 3-year-old with a reconstituted immunity and a large, vibrant puppy.
Please, oh please, hit me tonight.
Labels: The Small-Handed Ones
posted by Diana at 1:12 PM
18 Comments:
Oh bummer. The pukers, they are the worst! The middle-of-the-night pukers are worse yet. I wish I was close so I could come spirit the kids away so you could rest. You must be exhausted!
Kinda like a hurricane ripping into your intestines and then leaving you just as quickly...and your choice of pre-sick food is great...gives a whole new meaning to the words, "Empty Calories"!!!
Ohhh...I'm sooo sorry. Allie had a really bad pukey, poopy ailment last winter called rotavirus. It was eeeevil.
I hope you and the fam. have short-lived illness and quick recoveries! Actually fruit flavored popsicles are so horrible coming back up. Maybe have Charles pick up some of those...
Much good wishes that this passes quickly and as painlessly as possible!
If there's ONE thing that NEARLY rivals the fits in just how much I LOATHE it, it would have to be hurling. Thankfully, while my brain is naught but synapsical (though lovable, I swear) mush, I seem to have a stomach of iron and need not worry too much about the famed upchucks. Unless I consume upwards of 3/4 of a bottle of JD, and even THEN it's not TOTALLY guaranteed. You poor thing!! Hope you get sick, and better, soon!!
(That made sense?? Right?? I mean I'm not WISHING you sick but if it's already BOUND to happen?? Look, you know what I'm saying. Even if I don't. And that's what counts :P }
Hooooooo boy. Didn't you just finish being sick? This is so not fair.
My stepdad couldn't eat cherry vanilla ice cream ever again because of a bug like that. And it used to be his favorite.
Oh...very sorry... I am now even freaked out that I am going to get this gross bug just from reading your post! Those damn public places! Just festering with germs I tell you! I SO hope that you have been spared. (Charles too) Mucous one week AND vomiting the next? Go away black cloud!
Oh, poor Diana and poor Diana's family. I hope, if you don't escape it, that at least it's a mild case.
I hate the pukes, but it is a great way to learn to loathe a formerly loved food. Twenty-five years later I still can't eat a kind of cookie I loved before I got pregnant with AdultSon and was overcome by 5 months of 24/7 morning sickness.
Oh man.....
I hope by some miracle you are spared. But if not, I hope it comes and goes quickly. I hope by the time I post this comment you are on the upside.
I do love the problem of which food to eat last.
Hullo darlings,
shhhh. So far, we're spared. shhhhh.
I do realize that I've now fucked myself.
My, I'm stooopid.
I meant to say fruit flavored popsicles AREN'T so horrible coming back up. I hope you are not jinxed- knocking wood.
Oh, please no to the sickness! And yes, I will never ever be able to eat a fish sandwich with cheese again. I hate throwing up but the food thing is the worst. I would rather do bile. Bile already tastes horrible and I know I hate it.
I hope you're still avoiding it! No fun to get THAT kind of sick. Ew!
I've often wondered how they came up with the theory that those of us surrounded by illness 40+ hours a week won't ever get sick or need sick leave...makes no sense to me. Glad you're not hurling yet though!!!
ACK. You poor thing.
Hang in there.
I'm a bit behind the times so sorry for the lack of commenting!
Stomach bugs are the worst! And I hate throwing up foods that you previously liked. I have a problem with kabobs after a food poisioning experience.
I do hope you were spared completely!
Ughh. Hang in and hope you feel better soon.
*bursts out of the bombshelter*
Yippee! It's a week later. No adult pukers! Jinx passed. Well, if I do get sick, can't blame it on the small-handed ones. Past the window of incubabion. I'm sure all your good wishes are to thank.
*kiss, kiss*
Fascinating to read! I like the "condemned woman" analogy.
I guess the governor must have made a last minute phone call to spare you.
Hope you stay well.
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