Good Wayne

Monday, February 14, 2005

Happy Valentine's Day

It's been a terrible weekend.

It really started on Thursday. That was when Kelly got sick. And not just the oh-woe-is-me-lie-in-bed kind of sick, nooo. It's the up-at-6AM-puking-your-guts-out sick. The really weird thing was that she had no other symptoms and 24 hours later she was perfectly fine.

But that couldn't be the end of it. Nope. Saturday morning, I let Tine sleep thinking it would put her in the mood for some hot lovin' later, but instead she came down at about 10 AM asking me if I slipped rocks into her stomach while she slept. Un-oh. She spent the day sleeping and puking. Many times actually. And when Tine pukes, it's pretty violent. I mean it sounds like she's giving birth to a very sharp and pointy alien up there. TheBoy™ kept asking what that noise was and I just kept asking back, "What noise?" while turning the TV up.

This all meant I spent Saturday night with TheBoy™. He and I watched that cheezy SlipStream on SciFi (I'm a sucker for time travel in any form). We ate popcorn and he went to bed around 11. I went to be around 2 and then, when he woke up I went in and laid with him.

Can you guess where this might be going?

At about 5 AM, he wakes me up, calling me while sitting straight up. I knew it. Even though I was working on about 2 hours of sleep and there was this massive grey fog around my brain, I just knew what was coming. But I was really slow to react.

I sit up and rub his back, "What's wrong, buddy?

"Dad," he says in a combination of sadness and pain. And then there's this gurgling sound and he sucks in a breath as he convulses. It's like half of a hiccup. Only when the second half comes, it isn't that comical high-pitched snapping sound. It's a liquid churning sound.

And it's not just a sound.

My hands race to rip the covers off and form a cup under his chin. I have no idea why I do this. This has never really worked. It's like some attempt to keep it all clean. If I can catch it, I won't have to worry about the sheets, the blankets, the pillow, clothing... But it only works if he vomits up a cup of matter.

I catch the initial mass. It's gooey and warm (mmm... you wanted to hear that, right?). TheBoy™ coughs slightly and combines a whine with it and, before I can think, he brings up the rest. Now it's just gushes into my already full hands and flows over. Fuck this, I think and just sort of drop what I'm holding on the bed with the rest of it.

He starts to cry.

I tell him, "Hold on," and leap up. "Daddy's going to clean it up." I turn the light on and it stings my eyes, his eyes. It makes him cry more and I try to reassure him as I run to the bathroom swearing. I grab towels and wet a face cloth. I swear some more and rush back to the room.

I am not quiet.

Tine gets up and staggers into the room as I'm cleaning him up. I strip him and we search for clothes to redress him in. He clutches to her and the both sit on the floor after he's changed.

Then I have to strip the bed before it really sinks in and the pool of vomit looks like melted ice cream. White with small dark chunks. I think it has to be popcorn and milk. I ball it all up and find new sheets. The whole time, Tine and TheBoy™ are just sitting on the floor rocking.

It's now about 5:30 and TheBoy™ is awake. He's scared. Puking is traumatic for kids. The younger they are, the worse it is. He has no idea what's going on. It's a shock to his system and he can't figure it out. All he knows it, it's not normal.

We go downstairs and find something on TiVo for him to watch. Dora or Blue's, I can't remember. I send Tine back to bed so one of us can be alert later and I lie down with TheBoy™ on the couch, plastic bowl nearby in case of any more attacks. And he has them. But his stomach is empty so we only get spit and then some bile. He becomes less afraid of it and we lie there and I pass out around 6 or so.

Sunday he was better. Not much, but he ate some dinner and kept it down. Tine on the other hand, can't seem to get the upper hand. She isn't able to eat anything until Sunday evening and even then still feels like shit. She actually crashed most of the day and turned in about 9 PM.

So that brings us to today. I am the only one here who hasn't been sick in the last week (Michael was sick about a week ago, but it wasn't the same thing—or was it?). I've tried to be real careful about what I touch and washing my hands. But the funky thing is, I'm the one who ends up home today. We need to make sure TheBoy™ really is 100% better. It's not really fair to possibly infect other people. We have always tried very hard to make sure all the kids are well when we send them to daycare.

Which has also meant I've been stuck inside the house every day since Friday. As a result, I never got anything for Valentine's Day. I told Tine that this morning and she seemed okay with it. She never got out either. So, I'm forced to break out Plan K:

Happy Valentine's Day, Baby:

posted by Evil Wayne | 2:13 PM

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