When I was little I got migraines. Not really sure what triggered them, but I got them all the time. They made me puke. I was a super puker. Could have won an Olympic gold medal for throwing up if there was such a thing. In the car, in the gutter, at sporting events. You name it, I did it. I think that I usually puked twice - back-to-back - once because I was sick and once because I was so grossed out by what I had just done, it happened again. I had a 9 year stretch of no puke. That ended the second night I was home from my honeymoon in Mexico. We ate at ztejas. That restaurant is dead to me.
My sister got nose bleeds all the time as a kid. Once, when we were little and home alone she got a bad one. I didn't know what to do with a nose bleed so much so I had my sister lay down. Bad idea. After a minute or two of that she jumped up, ran into the bathroom and puked up gallons of blood. It was awesome.
I am prone to gagging. Talk about something I think is gross and I'll run out of the room, dry heaving and hyperventilating.
Why these stories? I don't know. Prior to having kids, I didn't really cope with things well. I gagged, I puked, I cried. I would keep my emotions pent up inside until I just exploded at the closest person (sorry, mom!), wall, counter top. I haven't banged my head into something hard, or my wrist for nearly two years though. That's real progress.
I've had a stint on Prozac and have some xanex in case of extreme emergency panic attack and meltdown. I left a sick newborn in a hospital for 10 days. I spoke at a funeral. I've done hard things.
My kids have asthma. The Chick spent some time at the hospital last night doing breathing treatments and getting checked out. He's wheezy. He rattles. He coughs. He pukes and screams and freaks out. He got two drives in the night in two different cars with two different parents - sitting on our laps and helping to drive. Trying to sleep.
Getting puked on by a 1 year old isn't as traumatic as my childhood pukey self thought it would be. I've discovered in the last almost four years that a sick kid - my kids in particular, is the most frightening thing. Yesterday was hard. Last night was awful. I don't cope well. I panic. My voice is shaky. My stomach aches, my shoulders are tense, my jaw is clenched. Seeing a sweet little thing struggle to breath is so hard.
Knowing that there really isn't anything I can do about it but pin him down and hold an inhaler with a spacer over his mouth while he screams to the point he might pass out is all I can do. And oh, boy! That's awesome. Really. Really. Awesome.
My most favorite thing to do ever.
I need to come up with some new coping mechanisms that don't involve panic.
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