At 3 am on Thursday I woke up with that unmistakable gnawing at the pit of my stomach and tiptoed as quickly as I could downstairs to the main floor powder room to await the inevitable. (Why not use the master bath? Because Tim is a sympathetic vomiter and there is nothing worse than feeling that sick and knowing that because of how he woke up, you're likely still going to need to change the sheets in your bed even though you made it to the bowl in time.) And thus I spent most of Thursday asleep, alternating between freezing and broiling and making quick dashes for the toilet. But by the late afternoon I was feeling better and by Friday morning, I had convinced myself that it was food poisoning, because no one else was showing any signs of illness.
Going on that theory, Friday the doodle and I ran some errands and we had friends over for pizza and conversation in the evening. And as we were sitting and chatting the living room, we heard the thump, pitter patter pitter patter of the doodle getting out of bed, then an unmistakably miserable cry and some heaving. And our friends quickly excused themselves, gathered their kiddos, and ran for the hills. They most likely went home and bathed in hand sanitizer...in their place, I might have considered drinking some just to be sure.* And thus began round two of the longest night ever - though it's considerably worse when it's your child (your already underweight child, mind you...and trust me, when they're keeping nothing down, the fact that you can see their ribs on a good day is foremost in your mind as they puke yet again and you wonder how, exactly, you're going to catch up on the weight gain issue after this little setback.)
Saturday was a long day of puke and snuggles and laundry and carpet cleaning. (He's not yet 2 - the idea of running for a toilet does not even enter his mind. If you're lucky, he just gets you. If you're not, then it's all over you AND the carpet AND the couch.) But by mid-afternoon, he seemed to be well and we were hopeful. But he woke up puky again this morning and so we're back to square one. The hardest part though is that he is begging for milk in the most pathetic whimper but we're smart enough to know that you don't put dairy on an upset stomach. He will at least drink clear Pedialyte mixed with water (I know you're not supposed to dilute it, but he won't drink it otherwise and plain water doesn't stay down so...you do what you can.) And applesauce seems to be safe so far as well. We are adhering firmly to BRAT though.
So far Tim shows no signs of falling.
Some of the snuggles have been so incredibly cute that we've taken a picture or two and I had to wonder...is it wrong to photograph your sick kiddo? He just looks so sweet snuggled up and resting - and perhaps that's simply in contrast to the "I don't feel good" look that he has going on otherwise - but it just seemed like too sweet a picture to miss. He has to hate us for something when he's older...this might as well factor in, yes?
Beyond that, as I contemplated this post, I was wondering what word to use for vomit. Because I tend toward "vomit" myself, but Tim is a "spit up" guy (and honestly, that just doesn't work for me, because spit up is what babies do as a normal course of action and is completely different from vomit. Confronted with this analysis, Tim just rolls his eyes at me and says "Fine, puke. Happy?") So I guess runner up for him is puke. Then there's "throw up" and "barf", neither of which are my personal favorites, though perhaps they're less offensive? (Throw up seems perhaps a bit more refined, barf tends toward a bit more juvenile in my mind.) Is there a preferable word to use in public writing or is it just the mental image you're striving for?
And seriously, I know nobody actually spends this much time thinking about terminology for vomit, but when you're up to your elbows in it, it seems the thing to do.
*Please note: I do not actually in any way advocate the internal consumption of hand sanitizer - I'm fairly certain that's toxic and should not be undertaken.
1 day ago
We had a bucket next to Jesse at all times when we dealt with the stomach flu before MA arrived. Was that February? Early March? I know it was only a few weeks before she was delivered.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, the bucket. And the perpetual sippy cup of water/Pedialyte (we did the dilution thing too. I don't care what "they" say - kids do not like that stuff).
There's always yak, which is my favorite term.
Hearing what you are going through makes me feel guilty for rushing Julian to the doctor the minute the fever and vomiting began...I couldn't ask if he ached all over so I assumed the worst. I hope Tim remains healthy...husbands tend to be the biggest "babies" when they are sick...I know mine is anyway. ;-)
ReplyDeleteFreeze pops worked for us when our kids wouldn't take enough liquids. They thought they were getting treats... :)
ReplyDeletePoor baby. Snuggles are usually the best thing. Hope he's okay now!
Jen -- Ah yes...yak. I'd forgotten yak. :) And ralph.
ReplyDeleteI'd be tempted to try the bowl thing (next time...cause I know there's gonna be one, just hopefully not this bout) - just right now he needs the comfort of you when he's doing it and well, honestly right now I'd rather he not be scared and have it all over me than the alternative.
Gwynne - That was us the first go-round. After what we had right before Christmas last year, this has really been nothing. But otherwise, we'd've been at the doctor too.
Michelle - I'm going to have to remember the freeze pop idea - that's genius! There have been snuggles galore. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's feeling better right now because I tried to pick him up and he said "No!" and ran off to find a toy. For now I'm considering that a good sign.
Isn't there some term about the "rainbow comet" or something? Road pizza?
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