Today, Archer is nine months old. I’m going to postpone his letter, though, because we are all kinds of sick up in here.
The barfing flu has been going around. (When is that not true?)
We had a playdate last Saturday with a couple friends of Kieran’s from school. One of the friends and her little sister and grandmother had all had The Sick that week, and all three of them were at the park that day. When my mom asked what we were doing when she called the next day, I said, “Just sitting around, waiting for someone to start barfing.”
Because that is truly what it’s like in this family. Four children under nine? Four children whose hands I find in their mouths over half the time I look at them? Four children who wash their hands when reminded and wipe their bottoms maybe sometimes?
I love my family. LOVE. But my gosh. My kids are ALWAYS sick. Because it takes so freaking long for any single virus to pass through everyone.
The stomach flu? We can seriously have lingering around our house for two or three weeks. Almost long enough for people to start catching it a SECOND time.
Last Sunday night, Griffon started the unmistakable moan of the Not Right. Brad and I were watching “Curb Your Enthusiasm” on DVD. I went up to check on him at around 10:30, and he wanted water. I knew, but I hoped I was wrong. Five minutes later, a scream. Brad went up, and he’d barfed on his pillow. We cleaned him up (barf flying from the towel), cleaned up the bed, put down some towels, and went back to our DVD. Ten minutes later, rinse and repeat. An hour after that, Archer.
Those two stayed home from school Monday. My hope was that, because everyone but Griffon had had this stuff just five months ago (you may remember my own 11-barf flu), the rest of us were immune.
I carried that hope through Archer’s two additional barfs Thursday night and his diarrhea after that. Right up until this morning when Anneke walked into our room and said, “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” I walked down the stairs to find Kieran writhing and moaning on the couch, prepared the requisite tall trash can, walked back into the kitchen, and heard Kieran’s screams and resulting eruption. Anneke followed about 30 minutes later. Kieran again two hours later, and Anneke again 30 minutes after that.
Kieran’s been okay now for three and a half hours, so I think he may be on the mend, but Anneke threw up again half an hour ago.
And I always have this pathetic FEAR that I’m next. I always always always get this stuff. I get it last (well, except for Brad, who doesn’t ever throw up), and I get it worst.
I spent not an inconsiderable amount of time this morning researching how to buy phenergan online. I have three half tablets from my last kidney stone two years ago, and I’m thinking of taking one. But if I do, I’ll have even LESS phenergan than I have now. I read a quote online about how ridiculous it is to take phenergan for the nausea/vomiting of a stomach virus – “It’s like taking morphine for a paper cut” – and I thought, This is exactly what I want.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Aside from how sorry I am that there’s so much barfing in your house, I’m amused at how well you keep track of who barfed, how many times and exactly when!
Oh, do other people not do this? This is the only way to go! The only way you know it’s getting better or worse!
P.S. I threw up about five minutes after I wrote that.
i say if it makes you happy, take it!
I guess I don’t do it because (and I’m almost afraid to type this) I never get *that* sick. I’m sure I will be stricken with SOMEthing, just for saying that.