11/6/09 - I Hope You Enjoy Your Stay

Well unfortunately about an hour or so after I wrote yesterday’s somewhat witty quip about needing a thesaurus I was bolting for the bathroom. Every 15 minutes or so for about 8 hours straight. The Girl was plagued all day as well so we had a retching symphony going on in this house. I’m sure it was lovely. And my husband got home to his two completely debilitated girls soon to be followed by a third encore by The Boy. He probably wanted to go right back to work, I know I would have. But instead he dutifully cleaned up the remnants of The Boy’s projectile offering, rubbed The Girls’ back as she leaned over the trash can and eyed me warily as I went to and fro from the downstairs bathroom to the couch and back again.

Obviously we kept both kids home from school today (much to The Girl’s dismay). My husband kicked into gear with the de-pukifying of the house by cleaning furiously (bless his heart) while the children and I spent the morning on the couch watching cartoons. The Boy snagged my husband into an intricate Star Wars game when The Girl fell asleep mid-afternoon and I discontinued the cartoons in favor of catching up on my DVR’d shows. I still have waves of nausea that roll over me, but it appears their only goal is to taunt me, not to actually do anything.

And since I’ve already ventured into “too much information” territory, I will share the worst part of this whole thing. It turns out that relentless barfing for 8 hours straight isn’t actually that bad. It’s the after effects that really suck. It’s the fact that throwing up uses every single one of your core, internal muscles and after 8 hours of that doing something as little as laughing, sneezing or coughing the next day makes you want to cry. And that throwing up nothing but bile for 8 hours leaves your throat raw and makes you cough. So the suffering compounds.

Now that this nastiness has made a complete circuit of my family, I am fervently hoping it will pack its bags and get the hell out.

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