As of yesterday we were fairly certain we had dodged a bullet. Norah was feeling fine, was eating fine, hadn’t felt ill since that Sunday when she puked at her grandmother’s house. She ate well last night and thoroughly enjoyed tearing around with her cousins for hours.
When Norah’s monitor woke me up at 12:30 a.m. I didn’t immediately register that it was her. It wasn’t Norah’s typical “something’s wrong” crying. All I heard was screaming. Horrified, terrible screaming. I’ve never gotten out of bed so quickly.
I think the impact of her vomiting all over her books on the floor of her bedroom shocked her as much as anything in her short life has. I entered her room to see her sitting on the floor, staring at the puddle of vomit with wide eyes full of abject terror. I expected to turn my head and see Dread Cthulu.
I stroked her hair and tried unsuccessfully to calm her down for five minutes before waking up my insomniac wife, who with the help of Lunesta had heretofore slept through the commotion. She was able to calm her down and change her clothes while I scrambled for paper towels, old dish cloths, and plastic bags.
They say you’re not a parent until you’ve cleaned up vomit at 12:30 a.m. I crossed that Rubicon loooong ago, and didn’t exactly need a reminder of my parental acumen.
We were up with Norah at least three additional times, though thankfully she hasn’t hurled again since that first (neé second) incident. My wife has reported, in between sips of caffeinated beverages and while rocking back and forth in a sleep-deprived near catatonic stupor, that she’s again on the couch whimpering, though she’s managed to keep down some oatmeal and chicken soup. Levi is currently cranky, though unaffected.
We got barely a week’s reprieve between the pneumonia and this. If the universe likes jokes, it’s obviously half-way through a particularly nasty and disgusting telling of The Aristocrats. Not funny, universe. Not fracking funny.
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This afternoon Norah told me, “My smile is gone.”
I am so glad to have found your blog. Your amusing and real.
I hope that sickness leaves your home soon, but am glad that you shared, while maintaining such a great way with words.
That is brutal
Life is terrible when the kids are sick. I have three kids and they all end up being sick at the same time. My wife and I forget about getting any sleep.