I literally had to take a moment. The stirring, the melting, the pouring...all gone. I looked over at Noah, who had a ring of chocolate around his mouth. He looked at me and said innocently "What?"
We had to rush to get ready, now that we had a trip to the store for dessert tacked onto the evening. When I was curling my hair, Noah came into our room and said to Matt "My underwear is wet."
To which I called out "I hope it's soaked with the tears of your guilt!"
Tali needed her diaper changed and as I lifted her sweet little leg, I realized that the extent of her diaper contents were much more, well, extensive than I originally thought. I followed the trail down her leg...to the ankle I was holding.
Sigh.
We had a lovely dinner with our friends (Jack got to see his good buddy the cardiologist) and headed home and went to bed. I woke up at 2:40 am.
That time is burned in my mind.
I woke up and thought "What is that strange feeling?" Oh yeah, it's nausea. I rushed to the bathroom, the stomach virus working its way quickly through my insides. By the time I got back to bed, my stomach was in knots. Wearily I pulled a blanket and pillow from the closet and settled in on the couch. Much as I tried to sleep, the constant trips to the bathroom prevented it. I had to call in sick for work this morning. Which I hate to do, as I actually enjoy what I do for the most part. Interacting with adults and sticking needles into people while getting paid? Yessiree, good times. But these types of bodily functions are frowned upon unless you are a patient.
Because my stomach hurts so badly, I haven't slept since 2 this morning. Well, 2:40.
The thing about stomach bugs is that it makes you really contemplate life. Maybe not so much life but certainly death. You think "Is this how it's going to end, me calling out for more Charmin and whispering for the sweet release of death?" You also wonder at some point how much more can possibly be left inside you. But then I remembered Jack telling me there's like 25 feet of intestines so hope fades pretty fast.
Matt left for church with the oldest three and I kept Tali with me. She ate Nilla wafers and laughed and snuggled up next to me while we watched banal sitcoms.
Around 10:30 I felt my leg getting warm, right where Tali was snuggled up. Oh yes, you know where this is headed. Diarrhea. On her dress, on my pants, on the blanket, the pillow behind her. That diaper was no match, really. I stared at her in horror for a moment. She bit into a wafer and smiled at me.
I rushed to get her into the bath and then ran around gathering up the soiled items. It was at that moment I got one of the intermittent hot flashes that often accompany sickness. I was sweating and panicking. I basically stripped off my shirt (my pants were already in the laundry) and rushed to put my hair up because I couldn't stand one more moment of it touching me. And that's how I did laundry.
Not my finest moment.
Later in bed I was curled up on my side when I felt a little fluttering. My first thought was "Oh, how sweet!" Then I remembered I'm not pregnant and that was just my insides trying to get outside.
Earlier in the afternoon I took a swig of Scope to get rid of that awful taste. Not wanting to germify the rim, I carefully poured it into my mouth. Normally I'm pretty good at this sort of thing, like when you lose the little cup that comes with the Nyquil or Pepto Bismol. Today? Not so much. Peppermint Scope all down my tank top. Let me tell you something - Peppermint Scope on skin? Burns like an Irish girl in the sun.
I told Matt he had to bring me things and tell me I'm pretty. Which he did with only the slightest of hesitations, slowly backing away from our plague-ridden bed.
So that was my day. My evening is pretty packed, a lot of saltine eating and staring glassy-eyed at nothing in particular is on the docket.
It's safe to say the weekend has been on a downward trajectory as of late - now where's the bottle of Nyquil, the one with no cup...
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