Friday, February 11, 2011
If nausea/vomiting isn't your thing, this post isn't your thing
We have survived our first sickness of the marriage. Monday night I went to bed around midnight, and woke up around 1 feeling WRONG. It took a few hours of lying on the floor, fetal position, and hanging over the sink before I finally threw up.
I was about 12 the last time I remember having the flu, and that was during a car trip to state track. When I was littler, Mom would lovingly place an empty ice cream bucket beside me on the couch while I watched reading rainbow and waited for Dad to come in for dinner. They would pray from the kitchen loud enough for you to hear on the couch. Take my temperature every so often. Let me nap in their waterbed. Feed me saltines, 7up, and jello. I have no experience being a nauseous adult.
The first three times, Jon would follow me out of bed and do nice things like rub my back and hold my hair out of the sink. After this, I was on my own. I think Jon realized that
a) nothing really makes vomiting less miserable
b) this was going to go on for awhile, and
c) he had to work the next morning.
For the rest of the night, every hour, I tried to creep out of bed and be sick as quietly as possible. I couldn't sleep, and I started getting really thirstly. Around 3:30am I emailed my professors to notify them that I would infact not be attending class in the morning.
Jon eventually got up and went to work while I continued my work of being ill. His coworkers told him it was clear that I was pregnant. What was clear to me was that everything inside my body wanted to be out in the quickest way possible. After about 12 hours of this, I finally fell asleep and Jon got home from work with some sprite. I was delighted to see him, in a dehydrated, nauseous, unable-to-move way. He said "I have what you have." (note: this clears me from previous accusations of pregnancy. to be clear: no baby.)
At this point we began to resemble the most pathetic couple possible: We sipped a little sprite. And threw up. Fell back asleep. We tried to wake up and distract ourselves for awhile before bedtime, but biggest loser was on and every commercial was for food. Jon assumed the fetal position in the corner of the couch, groaning and covering his eyes with his sweatshirt hood and a blanket. Our conversation topics were "why are we sick?" and "I hate being sick."
Now we are both feeling better. We lost a cumulative 10 pounds, are furiously rehydrating, and are nervously awaiting the moment when our bodies realize they haven't been properly fed in a few days and we wake up hungry enough eat everything in our apartment.
I was about 12 the last time I remember having the flu, and that was during a car trip to state track. When I was littler, Mom would lovingly place an empty ice cream bucket beside me on the couch while I watched reading rainbow and waited for Dad to come in for dinner. They would pray from the kitchen loud enough for you to hear on the couch. Take my temperature every so often. Let me nap in their waterbed. Feed me saltines, 7up, and jello. I have no experience being a nauseous adult.
The first three times, Jon would follow me out of bed and do nice things like rub my back and hold my hair out of the sink. After this, I was on my own. I think Jon realized that
a) nothing really makes vomiting less miserable
b) this was going to go on for awhile, and
c) he had to work the next morning.
For the rest of the night, every hour, I tried to creep out of bed and be sick as quietly as possible. I couldn't sleep, and I started getting really thirstly. Around 3:30am I emailed my professors to notify them that I would infact not be attending class in the morning.
Jon eventually got up and went to work while I continued my work of being ill. His coworkers told him it was clear that I was pregnant. What was clear to me was that everything inside my body wanted to be out in the quickest way possible. After about 12 hours of this, I finally fell asleep and Jon got home from work with some sprite. I was delighted to see him, in a dehydrated, nauseous, unable-to-move way. He said "I have what you have." (note: this clears me from previous accusations of pregnancy. to be clear: no baby.)
At this point we began to resemble the most pathetic couple possible: We sipped a little sprite. And threw up. Fell back asleep. We tried to wake up and distract ourselves for awhile before bedtime, but biggest loser was on and every commercial was for food. Jon assumed the fetal position in the corner of the couch, groaning and covering his eyes with his sweatshirt hood and a blanket. Our conversation topics were "why are we sick?" and "I hate being sick."
Now we are both feeling better. We lost a cumulative 10 pounds, are furiously rehydrating, and are nervously awaiting the moment when our bodies realize they haven't been properly fed in a few days and we wake up hungry enough eat everything in our apartment.
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Your good writing skills come through, even when telling a 'sick' story. Reading it was as good as being there - or better, since the sounds and smells don't transmit through the computer. Glad you could be there for each other and are both feeling better. -Mom
ReplyDeleteyour recount of having the flu at home is right on! thats exactly what happened when i got the flu over new years eve! loud dinner prayers. me in moms bed. ice cream buckets and periodic temperatures!
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