Wednesday - John has diarrhea. Very stinky and bad diarrhea. We attribute this change to the oranges we had for a snack on Tuesday night. Other than the stink, he is behaving normally. Steven and I are fine.
Thursday - John has thrown up twice during the night in his crib. He still has diarrhea. Still behaving quite normally although not eating very well. Steven & I are still fine...so far.
10:00pm - I am on the computer, can hear Steven upstairs... "not feeling well...not sure which end...oh my god..."
10:30pm - Can still hear Steven upstairs but now it is "bathroom noises". Think that I will stay downstairs for awhile longer. Hear Steven shouting "GET A BUCKET". I run to get the bucket and race upstairs. Due to brilliant thinking, I also run to get a plastic kitchen garbage bag to use as a liner.
11:00pm - Check to see if Steven is still alive. Smelly but alive. Painful but alive. I go to bed and wait for a break to use the bathroom to brush my teeth.
Friday
12:15am - I decide to sleep on the sofabed due to all the running back and forth to the bathroom and subsequent noises. Check on John. He seems fine.
3:00am - I awaken. Not sure why. Go up to check on Steven. Still the same sad state. He asks for Gatorade. I decide that he is in no condition to care for John the next morning and tell him so. He thanks me. I get ready to go to 7-11 for Gatorade.
3:25am - Am back from store. I call my office to leave a message for my co-worker that I will not be in to work the next day because both John & Steven are sick. I finish my message, hang up the phone, start to go upstairs, turn around and run to the downstairs bathroom to throw up. I am sick now too.
3:45am - crawl upstairs to check on John. He smells like vomit but is sleeping nicely. Consider waking him to change him and change the sheets. Decide to simply cover the offending area with a receiving blanket and let him sleep.
3:30am - 8:00am - alternate running downstairs and curling up into the fetal position on the sofabed. Wondering if this will ever end. Wondering how I can still be throwing up when there's nothing left to throw up?
8:00am - John wakes up. Get my sorry ass moving up to strip the bed, change John and wash him up a bit. Throw the stuff in the laundry. Check on Steven, he seems like he's alive...barely.
8:15am - John drinks his milk and juice. Plays with his toast. I let him watch Sesame Street while he eats. Thank God it's on, it's his favorite show. I try to drink some ginger ale. This goes down quite well.
8:30am - Ginger ale not sitting well. Comes back up quite well also. Feel very guilty as I gave up drinking soda for lent.
9:10am - Call my doctor, they ask how long it takes to get to the office. I say approximately 40 minutes. I have an appointment for 10am. I love my doctor, they can always fit me in.
9:15am - say a short prayer. Throw up once more before getting ready. Am sweating bullets. Am kind of dizzy as well. Hope for the best once I hit the road. I get John dressed and clean him up a bit, bundle him up and away we go.
9:55am - after much concentration, am awash in sweat, we arrive at the doctor's office
10:15am - leave the doctor's office. He gives advice for all three of us to follow. I think he feels sorry for me. I am still sweating bullets.
10:45am - am at Shopper's Drug Mart parking lot. Call Steven. Tell him that I won't get him a slurpee or a smoothie as this is against the advice of the doctor. We are to stay away from dairy, not eat any solids and only drink pedialite (or similar adult version) for 24 hours. He tries to convince me otherwise. I tell him I am too tired to carry John to two different places. I go into Shopper's and buy pedialite, pedialite freezies, the adult version which I can't remember the name but holy crap it's 15.99 for 10 doses and more diet ginger ale. I am still sweating bullets. I wonder if they think I'm shoplifting. John refused to go into a shopping cart so I'm struggling with three heavy bags and a wandering toddler on the way to my truck.
11:00am - Thank the lord I'm back at home. John goes into his playpen with a sippy of pedialite, I am back into my jammies and on the sofa bed, Steven is moaning and groaning upstairs still. Sesame Street is on TV again. It's the same episode but I'm not sure if John can tell the difference. I return a phone call from my office while quietly dying on the sofabed. I feel badly that I'm letting them down but there is no way in the world I am able to work today, I can barely even stand.
Thursday - John has thrown up twice during the night in his crib. He still has diarrhea. Still behaving quite normally although not eating very well. Steven & I are still fine...so far.
10:00pm - I am on the computer, can hear Steven upstairs... "not feeling well...not sure which end...oh my god..."
10:30pm - Can still hear Steven upstairs but now it is "bathroom noises". Think that I will stay downstairs for awhile longer. Hear Steven shouting "GET A BUCKET". I run to get the bucket and race upstairs. Due to brilliant thinking, I also run to get a plastic kitchen garbage bag to use as a liner.
11:00pm - Check to see if Steven is still alive. Smelly but alive. Painful but alive. I go to bed and wait for a break to use the bathroom to brush my teeth.
Friday
12:15am - I decide to sleep on the sofabed due to all the running back and forth to the bathroom and subsequent noises. Check on John. He seems fine.
3:00am - I awaken. Not sure why. Go up to check on Steven. Still the same sad state. He asks for Gatorade. I decide that he is in no condition to care for John the next morning and tell him so. He thanks me. I get ready to go to 7-11 for Gatorade.
3:25am - Am back from store. I call my office to leave a message for my co-worker that I will not be in to work the next day because both John & Steven are sick. I finish my message, hang up the phone, start to go upstairs, turn around and run to the downstairs bathroom to throw up. I am sick now too.
3:45am - crawl upstairs to check on John. He smells like vomit but is sleeping nicely. Consider waking him to change him and change the sheets. Decide to simply cover the offending area with a receiving blanket and let him sleep.
3:30am - 8:00am - alternate running downstairs and curling up into the fetal position on the sofabed. Wondering if this will ever end. Wondering how I can still be throwing up when there's nothing left to throw up?
8:00am - John wakes up. Get my sorry ass moving up to strip the bed, change John and wash him up a bit. Throw the stuff in the laundry. Check on Steven, he seems like he's alive...barely.
8:15am - John drinks his milk and juice. Plays with his toast. I let him watch Sesame Street while he eats. Thank God it's on, it's his favorite show. I try to drink some ginger ale. This goes down quite well.
8:30am - Ginger ale not sitting well. Comes back up quite well also. Feel very guilty as I gave up drinking soda for lent.
9:10am - Call my doctor, they ask how long it takes to get to the office. I say approximately 40 minutes. I have an appointment for 10am. I love my doctor, they can always fit me in.
9:15am - say a short prayer. Throw up once more before getting ready. Am sweating bullets. Am kind of dizzy as well. Hope for the best once I hit the road. I get John dressed and clean him up a bit, bundle him up and away we go.
9:55am - after much concentration, am awash in sweat, we arrive at the doctor's office
10:15am - leave the doctor's office. He gives advice for all three of us to follow. I think he feels sorry for me. I am still sweating bullets.
10:45am - am at Shopper's Drug Mart parking lot. Call Steven. Tell him that I won't get him a slurpee or a smoothie as this is against the advice of the doctor. We are to stay away from dairy, not eat any solids and only drink pedialite (or similar adult version) for 24 hours. He tries to convince me otherwise. I tell him I am too tired to carry John to two different places. I go into Shopper's and buy pedialite, pedialite freezies, the adult version which I can't remember the name but holy crap it's 15.99 for 10 doses and more diet ginger ale. I am still sweating bullets. I wonder if they think I'm shoplifting. John refused to go into a shopping cart so I'm struggling with three heavy bags and a wandering toddler on the way to my truck.
11:00am - Thank the lord I'm back at home. John goes into his playpen with a sippy of pedialite, I am back into my jammies and on the sofa bed, Steven is moaning and groaning upstairs still. Sesame Street is on TV again. It's the same episode but I'm not sure if John can tell the difference. I return a phone call from my office while quietly dying on the sofabed. I feel badly that I'm letting them down but there is no way in the world I am able to work today, I can barely even stand.
I fall asleep.
I wake up and sprint to the bathroom. How fair is this? I have nothing left to vomit. I can't even begin to describe the pain. I consider drinking something just so I can have something to throw up next time and it won't be so painful.
I make John stay in his playpen for most of the day. Unfair but far safer since neither Steven nor I am able to care for him properly today. John is supposed to drink as much pedialite as he wants. He drinks an entire bottle of pedialite during the day. I don't think he's quite as sick as Steven & I.
The remainder of the day consists of much bathroom time, moaning and groaning, randomly falling asleep and trying to drink the adult pedialite.
8:00pm - It's finally time to put John to bed. He falls to sleep immediately.
8:30pm - I fall asleep on the sofabed.
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