*This blog contains graphic descriptions of a family dealing with a nasty stomach virus. Reader discretion is advised*
Hi, it's me. I haven't been around much lately, I know. There's a good reason for that.
What's that smell, you ask? Sorry. It's kinda been following me around since last Monday. It might be the smell of the contents of our fridge rotting since it's barely been touched in the past week. Or it could be vomit.
Lilah brought us home a little present last Monday. It was... (in best Price is Right voice)
a lovely stomach bug!!! And when Miss Lilah has a tummy ailment, she doesn't rest until
all the contents of her stomach are strewn across our apartment. Oh, and she also marks the hallway and front steps of our apartment building as her territory too, just for good measure.
So that was the beginning of last week. I stayed home with her on Tuesday, and the Hubs took the day off to look after her on Wednesday. It was kind of a relief to go to work on Wednesday knowing that she was starting to turn the corner and her daddy was looking after her. And once I had showered the vomit out of my hair, I was feeling pretty spiffy and ready to be a speech therapist again, as opposed to playing the role of barf-cleaner-upper I had on Tuesday.
But apparently I started celebrating too soon. My first appointment of the day? An adorable four-year-old boy. He and his mother rush in, slightly distraught at being 10 minutes late due to traffic. No sooner do they get in the door then he upchucks in the front entrance/waiting area. While his mom is busy cleaning him up in the bathroom,
someone has to deal with the chunks in the waiting room. When I saw one of our admin staff members jump right in - with gloves on, of course -
and it happened to be her
birthday, poor woman - I strapped some gloves and got down to work too. I'd been dealing with it for the past two days anyway
. But that's when I started to suspect that the vomit might be following me around.
Lilah seemed to be recovering, and when neither the Hubs or I had come down with it by Saturday, I figured we were in the clear. One thing I have learned in my 17 months as a parent is that, as soon as you think you are in the clear for
anything, the universe will mock you. Sunday night I started feeling a little woozy and achy and by midnight I knew I would be calling in sick on Monday. I may gloss over the details here, because nobody wants to hear about the inner workings of my digestive system, but let me just tell you, this was one
nasty bug. And then of course Lilah, who had been okay for four whole days, randomly puked all over the Hubs after he picked her up from daycare that afternoon.
My many warnings to the Hubs to eat bland food in case he, too, should come down with this horrid bug went unheeded. The man thinks he is invincible. Seriously, any reference to illness or injury has him assuring me that he is Wolverine of the X-men. Sure enough, 4:30 am on Wednesday saw him sprinting to the bathroom gagging and sorely regretting his decision to eat nothing but hummus and chocolate for dinner on Tuesday.
Now it is the weekend again and the Hubs and I are back to gorging ourselves on the rich food of the season. Lilah, having actually
learned something from the whole experience, is still studiously avoiding any food that happened to be in her tummy at the onset of each episode, which, let's be honest, was pretty much all her regular foods and stand-by meals. Which means she is currently essentially living off mac 'n' cheese and breast milk.
And now, almost two weeks after the whole debacle started, I'm
finally starting to shake the vomit smell from my nostrils. Sweet baby Jesus, I think I can smell the candy canes and gingerbread again!
Got any vomit stories
you'd like to share? Tell me in the comments, and don't worry if it's gross - I have a strong stomach (most of the time)!
