Friday, February 13, 2009

Ok ok ok...so I learned that Wordless Wednesday is not applicable to someone who has not posted in two weeks.

With that said...I have been on a sick hiatus.
Early last week my oldest child, Princess Lounge Around woke me up at 11:30 pm to tell me she didn't feel good, could I sit on the couch with her. As we were sitting on the couch I go thru the whole list of what hurts. "Is it your head? You got a belly ache? You gotta poop? Do you feel like your gonna vomit?" Then I realized she had her head tipped back and was looking at the ceiling. "Ah ha 'a bloody nose?'" She tells me that she's trying to not throw up. And so the night began. When you think you're gonna throw up, you throw up. And she did. Six times. Poor dolly.

Wanna take a guess who got it next? That nasty virus had settled itself right here on Wilde Lane, because the Middle Child and Mommy got it. I thought I was going to D I E die. I have never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever thrown up that much (all three pregnancies put together I didn't throw up that much!) I laid in bed for two days groaning about wanting to be put out of my misery. I called my own mother on the phone and begged her to please tell me how to make it stop. She offered me some Coke syrup from her Fridge. Then she called back to say "Never mind, it expired." IN 1997. I swear to God. 1997. She said she remembered buying five bottles of it. When I talked to both my sisters a couple days later, they both too had a batch of the expired bottles from 1997. Since I know I threw mine away, that means my brother has a bottle of generic 1997 vintage Coke syrup in his fridge.

During one of my vomiting bouts in between heaves, the Man I Married knocked on the bathroom door and said "Does Jack have anymore dog food?" I said "Go Away" in my head I said "Piss off Fucker" (I do that alot, say something nice out loud and equally as foul in my head.) WHO DOES THAT? Who asks their vomiting wife where the dog food is???? Who? This from a man who I cannot talk to or look at when he is having an asthma attack. He needs to concentrate on his breathing. I get it. So DON'T ask me where the friggen dog food is!

My 13 year old took good care of me. She kept the ginger ale coming. She laid next to me in bed and listened to me moan and groan about how much it hurt. She never peeped one complaint how rotten she felt. Unlike me. Between the two of us we lost 16 lbs. I don't know about her, but the five I lost, found their way back. I pretty much slept (and bellyached) for two days. During the two days I was sick, I had a yearbook deadline due. I couldn't lift myself off the bed to get to the computer to submit what I had to. I did those pages in my sleep. Over and over again.

I took two days to decontaminate my house. I bleached every surface, I washed floors and threw open the windows. I'm sick of this cold and germy winter! I can't wait to complain about how hot it is!

4 comments:

Megryansmom said...

Ok, so you're forgiven, but come on, being sick is no excuse for not feeding the poor dog

Anonymous said...

but hey, if she doesn't put food IN the doggie there's no poop coming OUT of the doggie!! ;o)

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Soxy Deb said...

Well lord knows we're not happy if were not complainin about something. Hot, cold, pooping dogs. It's always something.

Glad your feeling better. I can't keep the entire blogland happy by myself.

♥georgie♥ said...

okay stoppin by to check on you hope all is well....missin your posts