Rough Night

It's been one of those nights... 8 yr old "Sissy" started complaining of an upset stomach around 8 pm last night. Shortly thereafter she proceeded to vomit chocolate Shakeology all over my new red chair. Of course there was very little bathroom tissue and no paper towels in the house as I was planning a major cross-border grocery shopping trip today and didn't bother to restock. Fortunately I had just finished washing, drying and folding most of our bath and kitchen towels so we went through all of those in a matter of 20 minutes, cleaning up vomit from my chair, Sissy's face and hair and we can't forget the bathroom floor.

Meanwhile, "Mister Twister" was at a friend's house expecting to be picked up at 9... I spoke with said friend's mother who confided in me that she had a hard day at work and was 5 beers deep. Not wanting to chance scratching her new ride, she advised that she was unable to drive him home. Awesome.

Back at the ranch, Sissy has a sudden attack of the runs and quickly went through the remaining bathroom tissue. I suspect that she overdid it with the Charmin as I discovered (in the worst way imaginable) that she had plugged up the toilet. Unable to leave the house with her in this condition, I called a friend who doesn't live too far from us to see if he could swing by with some supplies and perhaps pick up the boy. No luck; it was 19º (F) and felt like 9º with the wind chill outside and he had just gotten settled in at home. I decided an alternative solution would have to be found.

I asked the beer-lovin' mom if she could arrange a taxi for Tristan to get home and then I begged her to send some bath tissue and paper towels with him. At this point all dignity was out the window; Sissy had soiled herself three times and was so sick that she couldn't lift her head off her pillow let alone get up and get back in the tub (She always insists on a warm bath when she gets "The Throw-Ups".) I had no choice but to clean her up with a warm, soapy cloth and change her clothes and bedding. THREE TIMES!!

I was staring at the biggest, nastiest smelling pile of laundry I had ever encountered, my chair was still marinating in chocolate vomit, there was a trail of puke from the living room to the main floor bathroom to the second floor bathroom. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I discovered that my $30 industrial-type toilet plunger was leaking air somewhere, rendering it completely ineffective... at that point I remember wanting to pack 3 suitcases, leave the house and never return. Instead I cried for a moment then got it together and began filling buckets with hot water and disinfectant.

No sooner than I began to wonder what was taking Tristan so long to get home, he called to say that he was uncomfortable taking a taxi by himself and as such, his friend's mom decided to drive him after all. They were half way here. No time to think about the possible consequences of that decision and not much I could do about it at that point anyway so I turned my focus back to cleaning up.

Two long hours later I had a handle on the vomit trails and my poor violated chair. As for the laundry, well at least it was sorted and being processed as efficiently as possible in between cries for help from upstairs. It was then that the unspoken fear started creeping up on me. If you're a mom you know what I'm talking about; it's the fear that their germs have somehow infected you and that you will soon be suffering a similar fate as your poor, sick child.

I started planning ahead, strategically placing hair ties, paper towels, pillows, blankets, fresh glasses of water (complete with bendy straws) in convenient places around the house... just in case. Thank goodness I had just scrubbed the one remaining functional toilet bowl!

Part of my pre-planning was to eat something that wouldn't burn like hell coming back up and to get some rest. The eating part was easy enough however I soon realized sleep would not be an option. Sissy cried and cried and huffed and puffed and whined and cried because she was experiencing severe stomach pain and then a few hours later, leg cramps from the dehydration that is an inevitable part of the stomach flu. I rubbed her back & legs, administered small sips of water, changed the cold cloth on her head and beamed her with Reiki all night despite the overwhelming urge to hide under the blanket and ignore it all.

(Oh, did I mention I was expecting a handyman at 9 a.m. to patch drywall and hang doors?)

Just as she began to settle in the early morning hours I heard a call out from Tristan's room and then... retching. Ugggghhhhh, noooo! Thankfully he is a much quieter patient than Sis, sleeping in between his violent attacks of vomiting and diarrhea. Cleaner too... at least he has mastered the art of listening to his body when these things come on. He prepared himself with a trash can in his room to minimize cleanup. Gotta love that boy! Poor thing though, he's had a really rough go of it... he had the dry heaves so bad his face is mottled with purple spots and blotches from straining. He's resting quietly beside me as I type this so hopefully the worst is over.

This is definitely one bug I do not care to meet with. Fortunately I've been remembering to take my vitamin D lately (most days) and Tristan, even in his weakened state has promised to look after me should I fall ill so never fear, I am prepared and in good hands. I think I'll doze off now and get some rest... just in case!