The past few days Have been absolute hell. The whole family has contracted a stomach virus. Rose started spitting up on Wednesday. She spit up maybe three times, and we decided to take her in to see her doctor. The doc told us that every thing looked fine and she was the picture of health (it’s funny, you look normal when actually you’re the Angel of Death).
The rest of that day and the next one she acted fine. She had a little diarrhea, but did not spit up any more. Around Five in the afternoon on Thursday Mommy Boots and I both started feeling a little queasy. All the while Rose was dancing to Marc Broussard and munching on a banana. (she knew she had brought the Bubonic Plague to us)
In the next couple of hours I had to take several trips to see who would soon become my most trusted friend.
That’s right, I am talking about the toilet. Now keep two things in mind while reading this story, one is that I have not really been sick since I was ten. So I kinda forgot what it feels like. The other is that I have not been to the doctor for myself in twenty years.
It all started with a BAD case of the back door trots. I know, it’s not that big of a deal. Well, when you make over six trips to the bathroom in a hour it is a little unusual. Then it hit me, the vomiting that is.
I am a very independent person, and nothing makes my suborn independence shine than vomiting. (I know I said I have not been sick, but people vomit from too much Jameson too) When I am sick I do not want to be helped. I do not want to be touched. I want to be left alone in my miserable privacy. This is something that in the eight years Mommy Boots and I have known each other she has failed to learn.
So the first trip to the bathroom to battle the vomit I grabbed the garbage can and went off to face my doom.I got into position and the door opens up…
Mommy Boots: Are you ok?
Daddy Green: I’m fine shut the door.
DG:Shut the door!
MB:Are you sure?
DG: pukes while waving his hand in a dismissive manner for her to shut the door.
Now I love her to death, and I know all she is wanting to do is help, but there isn’t anything that she can do. I understand that the nurturing thing comes out in a mother when she sees a family member ill, but LEAVE ME ALONE WOMAN!
Now that being said, after she shut the door I puked more than I ever have in my life. I mean after three minutes I was almost laughing in between vomiting. I did not think it was ever going to stop. After I puked Mommy Boots decided she was going to the grocery store for provisions before we both felt this bad. I am pretty sure she vomited in the parking lot before coming home.
We turned in for a somewhat early night that evening and not an hour went by I had to return to the bathroom. I got into position and the door cracked open to where I could only see an eyeball…
MB: Are you ok?
DG: REALLY!?! I me…PUKES
MB: I was just checking…
That night I felt like I was literally dying. Every twenty minute I was throwing up. I went to the Doctor the next day when I felt like one of the zombies Rose and I fight.
They took my blood pressure, blood samples, and a urine sample. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had not peed in any of my trips to the bathroom. I was so dehydrated that what little I could get out looked like pancake syrup. The doc told me I was seriously dehydrated and put me on fluids.
She made me take off work the next couple of days and rest while my body re-hydrated its self.
So that is where I am at right now. I am still weak, but I am no longer vomiting. Our house is on the mend, but I can not speak for the rest of Chattanooga. On behalf of our beloved Herald of The Apocalypse sleeping in the next room I apologize if you receive the plague from us…