The Creeping Crud
Or as it is otherwise known, the Fungus Amongus. Have you heard? It's humongous.
Whatever it is, we've got it.
I got it first. I was eating supper nice as can be on Wednesday night, felt just fine, and then the noises started. Disturbing noises from the depths of my being. Rumbling, churning noises. Now, being preggers and all, I'm pretty used to my guts making all kinds of unholy sounds. So I paid it no heed. I felt fine.
But all that night, I felt awful. Couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfortable. It was bad. Finally got up a couple of times really early in the a.m. because I felt pukey, but no go. Mr. Poops stayed home and got the kids moving whilst I slept fitfully until 11.
I got up and had some toast. Wasn't hungry, but felt weak and shaky and thought nourishment might help. It did, until about mid afternoon when I went in and took a shower and promptly vomited in the tub.
I'm not a puker. I don't do it unless my life depends on it. Apparently, my life depended on it.
The good news is that after I got sick, I laid down on the couch and felt miles better. Ate some crackers and drank some Gatorade and had more toast for supper and all went well.
The next day I got up and treated my stomach gingerly. Easy to eat and digest foods, or so I thought. I felt great until I lay down for my afternoon siesta, or more accurately, when I got up from it to take a shower, as I was going out at 5:30 to a party.
Puked in the shower again. I was starting to think it was the shower's fault.
I dressed and went out, feeling okay but definitely not hungry which took some of the fun out of the party, I tell you. By the time I got home, though, I felt fine. Went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning.
Felt fine all day Saturday, though my appetite still wasn't back full force. I started feeling queasy around suppertime, but I managed to eat and keep it down so I thought whatever was wrong was gone.
Until 6 a.m. Sunday morning when I woke with explosive diarrhea.
Delightful.
Felt sick all day Sunday, but still managed to get my hair cut even though I didn't eat a full meal if you put all three meals together. Felt better at bedtime, went to bed at 9.
Woke at one to Bobo puking in her bed. Toddler puke is the worst. She doesn't quite get what's going on and tries to swallow it back down from whence it came, and seems to think that puking while lying down is a good idea too. It's not.
Which reminds me that I have to switch the laundry over.
Anyway, she was sick on and off until about 4:30 when I finally got back to sleep, only to get up at quarter past seven to get Ms. Grumpy Pants (aka The Bug) ready for school.
I get downstairs with the kids and Mr. Poops is on the couch. He got up and puked first thing this morning.
So now I just have to wait for Bug to get it too, and we should be all set. Poor Bobo keeps drying to drink something--anything!--and everytime she does it just comes right back up.
If there's a bright side to all of this it's that I had toast for breakfast and I'm still hungry. It's a good sign. Appetite, where have you been? I've missed you!
So, after slogging through mountains of soiled bedding, today I am working on some donations to a new Knitty-born charity. Some of us are making tiny preemie clothes in honor of our friend Yorkie who lost her son just before Christmas, born too early at 20 weeks or so. The hospital that took care of them has a dresser with tiny clothes in it for the babies to wear, or to be buried in if need be, and we thought it would be a nice idea to make some stuff in Baby Christopher's memory to stock up those drawers.
So far I'm in various stages of progress on three tiny gowns that would fit a baby Christopher's size, or a bit bigger, and I got some more baby yarn to make several white ones too. Maybe those will be bigger since they need all sizes.
It's sad to think of the babies that will wear the gowns, but at the same time it's been a spiritual exercise to work on them. Particularly since Dave is now about the size Christopher was when he was born. Yorkie and I were "Belly Buddies" on the Knittyboard, which makes my heart break twice over.
It's not much, but it something.
So you'll forgive the lack of pictures and other knitterly content these days. The house is trashed, we're wandering about in our pajamas, and just trying to keep our heads about water. Or puke, as the case may be.
Eventually, I promise!
Whatever it is, we've got it.
I got it first. I was eating supper nice as can be on Wednesday night, felt just fine, and then the noises started. Disturbing noises from the depths of my being. Rumbling, churning noises. Now, being preggers and all, I'm pretty used to my guts making all kinds of unholy sounds. So I paid it no heed. I felt fine.
But all that night, I felt awful. Couldn't sleep, couldn't get comfortable. It was bad. Finally got up a couple of times really early in the a.m. because I felt pukey, but no go. Mr. Poops stayed home and got the kids moving whilst I slept fitfully until 11.
I got up and had some toast. Wasn't hungry, but felt weak and shaky and thought nourishment might help. It did, until about mid afternoon when I went in and took a shower and promptly vomited in the tub.
I'm not a puker. I don't do it unless my life depends on it. Apparently, my life depended on it.
The good news is that after I got sick, I laid down on the couch and felt miles better. Ate some crackers and drank some Gatorade and had more toast for supper and all went well.
The next day I got up and treated my stomach gingerly. Easy to eat and digest foods, or so I thought. I felt great until I lay down for my afternoon siesta, or more accurately, when I got up from it to take a shower, as I was going out at 5:30 to a party.
Puked in the shower again. I was starting to think it was the shower's fault.
I dressed and went out, feeling okay but definitely not hungry which took some of the fun out of the party, I tell you. By the time I got home, though, I felt fine. Went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning.
Felt fine all day Saturday, though my appetite still wasn't back full force. I started feeling queasy around suppertime, but I managed to eat and keep it down so I thought whatever was wrong was gone.
Until 6 a.m. Sunday morning when I woke with explosive diarrhea.
Delightful.
Felt sick all day Sunday, but still managed to get my hair cut even though I didn't eat a full meal if you put all three meals together. Felt better at bedtime, went to bed at 9.
Woke at one to Bobo puking in her bed. Toddler puke is the worst. She doesn't quite get what's going on and tries to swallow it back down from whence it came, and seems to think that puking while lying down is a good idea too. It's not.
Which reminds me that I have to switch the laundry over.
Anyway, she was sick on and off until about 4:30 when I finally got back to sleep, only to get up at quarter past seven to get Ms. Grumpy Pants (aka The Bug) ready for school.
I get downstairs with the kids and Mr. Poops is on the couch. He got up and puked first thing this morning.
So now I just have to wait for Bug to get it too, and we should be all set. Poor Bobo keeps drying to drink something--anything!--and everytime she does it just comes right back up.
If there's a bright side to all of this it's that I had toast for breakfast and I'm still hungry. It's a good sign. Appetite, where have you been? I've missed you!
So, after slogging through mountains of soiled bedding, today I am working on some donations to a new Knitty-born charity. Some of us are making tiny preemie clothes in honor of our friend Yorkie who lost her son just before Christmas, born too early at 20 weeks or so. The hospital that took care of them has a dresser with tiny clothes in it for the babies to wear, or to be buried in if need be, and we thought it would be a nice idea to make some stuff in Baby Christopher's memory to stock up those drawers.
So far I'm in various stages of progress on three tiny gowns that would fit a baby Christopher's size, or a bit bigger, and I got some more baby yarn to make several white ones too. Maybe those will be bigger since they need all sizes.
It's sad to think of the babies that will wear the gowns, but at the same time it's been a spiritual exercise to work on them. Particularly since Dave is now about the size Christopher was when he was born. Yorkie and I were "Belly Buddies" on the Knittyboard, which makes my heart break twice over.
It's not much, but it something.
So you'll forgive the lack of pictures and other knitterly content these days. The house is trashed, we're wandering about in our pajamas, and just trying to keep our heads about water. Or puke, as the case may be.
Eventually, I promise!
posted by Poops | 8:52 AM
6 Comments:
There is a lot of it about over here too! Hope you are all feeling better soon x
Ah yes, you are describing December 21st at our house quite well. But Dr. MS and I avoided it--thank Squashola!
Oof. I don't know how you do it. I can't bring myself to knit those types of things. My heart breaks for Yorkie, and she's got my support, but I just can't knit anything for that drawer. A friend of a friend who was a few weeks more PG than me ended up losing her full term baby and that freaked me the eff out even to this day. I think that's part of the reason I can't knit anything for this cause. I tip my knitted cap to you and your perserverance to help such a cause.
This was all three of us the Saturday before Christmas. Kendall started it, then I followed, and then Dan. Each person got it progressively worse than the person before it. Dan and I had it at the same time, which has to be the worst form of torture ever, considering there is one bathroom to speak of. We needed to pass Kendall off to my father because neither of us could care for her. He was sick that next night. Ahhh Nausea- the gift that keeps on giving.
Been there, done that. Don't want it back, thank you. I hope you all get better soon. The hardest thing is trying to tell a very young child that they will get better faster if they don't eat or drink anything: just empty out completely.
My little guy had it on Christmas and the day after. I swear there's a Murphy's Law correlary that the onset of childhood digestive illness must occur between midnight and four a.m.
I hope you feel better soon! That sounds so freaking unpleasant, it would be nasty to experience even without the pregnancy bit. Ugh.
Do we know if Dave is a boy or a girl yet? Not that it matters, I'm calling her Dave anyway.
I'm watching the Packers game and thinking of you.
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