Sunday, April 14, 2013

at least it happened on a saturday

Sunday at 1 pm and I'm still wearing the same clothes I put on yesterday at 2.  Being sick is a horrible thing and today I feel like I got hit by a mac truc k.  Thank heaven's for husbands and dad's and @willie_petersen44 sharing some of his pepto stash.

I ditched church today, but for good reason.

Yesterday morning, around 3:00 am I got up to help Ross with Quinn.  Changed the diaper, sucked the boogers and sent them and a bottle on their way.  I however, didn't feel so hot.  I came downstairs to check my blood sugar, a little high for the middle of the night, and got a drink of chocolate milk, my midnight snack of choice.  I then marched back upstairs and put my giant butt back into bed, only I noticed something wasn't right.  My tummy wasn't happy.

But, I fell asleep to wake at 6:00 am to a jabbering baby and a tired husband in bed with me.  After about 3 minutes I knew I was in trouble and headed downstairs to the bathroom.  I spent the next two hours in the bathroom and when I finally thought I was okay it was time to shower, put some finishing touches on some cupcakes I'd make for my cousin's baby shower and head to my sister's to car pool to Roy.

I should have realized when I got on the scale after the shower and it said I'd lost 9 whole pounds in two hours that I was in for trouble.  Instead, I grabbed a sprite zero and some crackers and headed out the door.  The 45 minute drive was okay until the last 10 minutes or so when things started to get a little sketchy and lets just say I barely made it to my aunts house in time.

Thank heavens she has a bathroom in the basement tucked away from all civility.

After a few minutes (maybe 15?) I thought I was okay (again) and marched upstairs to ask my aunt for a diet coke.  She had ONE.  She told me it was over a month old and they were saving it for an emergency.  I declared I was the emergency, popped the top and found a seat.  After about 3 sips I knew that this time I was in trouble and that this time, the trouble wouldn't have me sitting on the toilet, but kneeling at the porcelain throne instead.

I rushed back to that downstairs bathroom.  Set my drink on the counter.  Hurriedly took off my jacket and got the toilet seat up just in time for the flood gates to open.  And, open they did.  Honestly, it was the most sick I'd been in 4 years - when I got cafe rio food poisoning - and it was bad.  You should have seen my flushed face and smeared make-up once it was all over.  And, as if it was just for me, there was a giant bottle of mouth wash in that bathroom and after I fixed up my face with some tissues, I gargled my puke away and headed back upstairs.

There were no more incidents during the shower and as soon as the last present was opened my sister and her kids and I left.  We stopped for a drink and then she flew me home.  Ross was kept up-to-date on my situation the entire afternoon and was waiting for me....from a distance...when I returned home.  Immediately I ran upstairs, took off my nice clothes, threw on a grubby t-shirt and climbed into bed.  Where I slept for about 2 hours until around 4:30, it all started again.  The most violent and horrendous sickness maybe of my entire life.  I couldn't catch my breath.  I couldn't open my eyes.  I was puking and crying and moaning.  I slammed my head onto the open toilet seats.

It was awful.

I spent the entire day in bed, sleeping most of the afternoon and evening away.  Ross took such good care of the boys while I was on my death bed.  Around 6:00 pm, after 12 hours of being being brutally sick I told him that I though I needed to go to the emergency room.  Before that though - I contacted the resident nurse, and texted my mom, who was on a plane from New Orleans a pathetic and sad text.  After my phone calls, and a lot of dry heaving in the bathroom, I decided that it was best to wait it out at home, but have my dad come to help Ross give me a blessing.

I couldn't sit up in the chair, and don't remember what was said, but I believe in blessings.  I don't ask for them often, if ever...only when I've been having babies...but last night I needed one.  After, my good dad stayed to entertain the big boys while Ross got the baby to sleep.

I remember nothing else from the evening except that at 4:00 am I woke up, brushed my teeth and washed my face.

Today, my body feels like it does the day after a c-section when my babies have been born.  Completely broken.  But, I've eaten, and drinken (I know, not a real word) and just a little bit ago, showered and put on new clothes.

No idea what I got zapped with, or why it picked me.  I'm just happy that I didn't die, and that it happened on a Saturday.

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