Throw Up Ruins Everything

When I used to work at the pediatric office a little more, people would often ask me if I was fearful of all the scary illnesses and diseases that kids can get. 

And I answered them honestly with a 'no.'

Uncommon and rare diseases are indeed uncommon and rare.

But one thing I do live in absolute fear of is:

THE STOMACH BUG.  The super common, not rare stomach bug.

Because throw up ruins everything.

Sheets. Plans. Fun. Your ability to smell anything and have it not smell like throw up.

We experienced a period of several weeks where throw up seemed to run the show

It was so ridiculous that it had to be recorded for us to remember (and hopefully laugh at) in the years to come.

Interspersed in the story are old pics of the boys from John's phone that he synced after 3 years of not syncing it.  

Because even now...as I am many days removed from any throw up, it still puts me in a foul/scared/I think I might be getting sick again mood.  Old pics of the boys always help.

So here is how throw up (and a few other things) ruined two weeks of our lives...

THURSDAY:  Charlie pukes one hour into our trip to NC to get our new puppy (another blog for another day).  

He is 18 months old.  So he doesn't know how to courtesy puke (in a toilet with a stereo blasting and a can of Lysol in hand to promptly rid the room of any vomit odor remnant.)

Instead, he went all out, full force, exorcist style in his Britax hand-wash only carseat. 

I make the call to turn around and head home.  

Charlie continues to get sick for a few more hours.  

John and older boys head back to NC to get the pup. 

FRIDAY:  New pup, John and older boys return home.  All is well.

Until...

SATURDAY:  We all go to Gigi's house to show off puppy.  

Finn says, "I don't feel so well" and heads to the toilet where he proceeds to open his mouth and yell at the toilet.  

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I don't KNOW! I've never thrown up before." says Finn.

"Ok. Well, do you feel bad?"  

"I don't know."

That was enough for us to load up the car and take along a bucket just. in. case.

Half-way home...

"Oh no!  It's back!!!"

In warp speed we are in a parking lot, Finn is jerked out of a car, and he figures out how to throw up.

SUNDAY:  Finn is doing well.  Charlie is great.  Everyone is happy, happy, happy. 

But we are riding out that fun 24 hour symptom free window where regardless of how sick your kiddo was the day before, they are perfectly fine and healthy and are bouncing off the walls.  

But you're stuck inside while your husband is at work and everyone on Instagram is posting their beach day pics. 

But...

The dog doesn't seem right.  

Yes.  The dog we have had less than 48 hours at this point.  

Not wanting to move.  Or eat.  Or drink.  Or do anything.  

Off to the vet we go.  They think he swallowed something.  X rays confirm that there is "something" in his abdomen that shouldn't be there.  Surgery is recommended.  Surgery is completed.

Nope.  He didn't swallow a stuffed animal.

He had an undescended testicle that wrapped around his intestines.

I can't make this up.

So...he had a premature neutering. He's half the man he used to be.

At least he's not vomiting.

MONDAY:  Dog comes home.  He acts like nothing happened.  No whining, no biting, no lamp shade collar.  Nada.  It's a miracle.  He's a champ.  Kids are at school.  No more 24 hour windows of symptom worry.  Life is good. 

Until...

WEDNESDAY:  I don't feel so well.  No.  This can't happen.  There is no plan B for moms.  You're on deck and you're at the plate. Every day. 

BUT, thankfully...when this all started back Thursday before, I decided that I would conquer the bug by not eating.  This is not anything I recommend necessarily, but it honestly worked for me.  I ate very, very little so that if/when the bug hit, it would be very disappointed with what it had to work with.  And I like to eat.  But when you have been thrown up on by more than one person in a short period of time, you'd be surprised that food isn't all that appealing.

I escaped the misery everyone else suffered and just had a rough night of pain but woke up knowing that I had passed the test!  

FRIDAY:  We start thinking that we have passed enough time that anyone else who might be getting sick would have already done so.

WRONG.

That night, the dog who just had emergency testicle-wrapped-around-his-guts surgery throws up.

Please note that John and I are scheduled to leave on Saturday at 7am for his mom's 60th bday (ADULTS ONLY) weekend in Atlanta.  I had a swat team of babysitters lined up.  Single spaced instructions typed out and ready.  Clothes laid out.  Bags packed. 

We chalk the dog throw up to having eaten some grass.  Yes.  Grass.  That's the ticket!

NO GO.  We wake up to more vomit in his crate on Saturday morning.  

Babysitters cancelled.  Kids mad when they wake up and see ol' mom instead of fun, young, cute babysitters.  There is no way around this.  Our dog is sick.  Again.

And no lie, as John is pulling out of the driveway heading to Atlanta, I'm walking the pup and the lawn sprinklers turn on and soak us.  

It was symbolic.

Our vet is out of town.  We schedule an appointment with another local vet for some x rays.  

I'm told that it's super unlikely for a dog to catch a virus from a human and that they need to rule out if he has swallowed something.  Here we go again. 

At this point, I had to get out of the house.  We went to lunch.  And all of the days of not eating much hit me and I was STARVING.  So, I ate like a starving person.  Huge sub, big drink, chips and probably most of the kids' leftovers, too.

Get to Petsmart where the vet is.  The reality that our brand new dog might have to have yet another expensive surgery begins to settle in.  And for me, my nervous settling takes place in my belly. 

So, as my dog begins to leave his diarrhea trail all over the store, it becomes obvious that my rebound eating frenzy is about to hit the eject button.  

And it does. 

But there's good news!  Doggie is FINE!  No obstruction.  He didn't swallow anything. 

He did get a stomach bug!  Yay, right?  So I pay the vet half of a semester's worth of college tuition circa 1999, and tell them I'm sorry for the mess. 

Instantly I feel better and start craving pancakes.  So the boys and I celebrate some good news with dinner at Cracker Barrel.  I even win the golf tee game without cheating. 

The stars are aligning.  We are on the way to a better day.

Until...

MONDAY:  I get woken up by Jack at 3:30.  Mom.  I threw up!

You have GOT to be kidding me. 

At this point, I have a preferred order of how I like to clean it up.  

Soak. Spray. Wipe. Spray. Wipe. 

Trash can at bedside.  Kiss on the forehead.  Wash hands.  Back to bed.  Go to sleep fast cause it's coming again. 

It comes again.

TUESDAY:  I download Candy Crush, and we play it all day.  Everyone is fine.  But we're in the 24 hour window.  Again.  We are house bound.  I am a lunatic.

WEDNESDAY:  Everyone is at school again.  We are all excited for baseball that night.  We get to be around people and breathe fresh air and get Ring Pops if we behave.  The Red Sox win big!  Jack goes 3 for 3.  Everyone is giddy.  We are leaving the ball park trying to make conversation with people just to see if we remember how after being hermits for so long.  John gives me a look that I usually interpret as, "Can you shut your pie hole already?  Quit talking because I'm HONGRY!" Except this time I misread the signal. This time he was trying to telepathically say to me, 

"I'm about to puke. Bye."

So, off he goes home to take care of business.  His strategically timed business.  What do I mean by that?  I mean he's off on Thursdays.  He got sick on a Wednesday.  How do dads time these things so well?  :)

So, there it is.  Our two weeks of heck in a handbasket. 

14 days.

5 sick people.

1 new dog. 

1 sick dog. Twice.