Remember back in early February when our family experienced 10 vicious days of viral grossness? Well, apparently that wasn’t our only kick at the can (i.e. toilet) for the year. Probably because the flu shot isn’t very damn effective this year?!
We just finished ANOTHER round of the flu at our house, and yes, I’m here to tell you all about it.
We were allllllll set to go out for dinner on Friday night, to thank my stepmother for her two weeks of cooking-and-cleaning-and-childcare servitude after my surprise hysterectomy.
I was feeling OK and really, really, really looking forward to leaving the house for the first time in almost three weeks (to go somewhere other than the doctor’s office or the hospital).
We decided to have her open her birthday gifts right before leaving (her birthday was in a couple of weeks), so we didn’t have to lug them to the restaurant.
FORESHADOWING: C was doing this thing where she makes herself cough and cough, and we figured she had a little tickle or something stuck in her throat.
We sat down at the table, I was all poised to take a photo of the kids huddled around her, and then …
… two-year-old C started throwing up all over herself, the table, and the floor.
Luckily, Darling Husband was home, because he is The Handler of Vomit Situations in our family. (I’m the Run-Awayer and Hand-Wringer of Vomit Situations.)
He cleaned her up while we all discussed that, OH, SURELY, SHE DID THIS TO HERSELF. She’s brought on puking before by doing that cough-cough routine. NO NEED TO PANIC.
She was feeling good and dressed in fresh clothes, and rushed back to the table for the present-opening. My stepmother picked up the first gift, and then …
I will spare you the rest of the details, but let’s just say WE DID NOT MAKE IT TO THE RESTAURANT.
C and D were sick ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Well, that’s what I heard, anyway.
I barricaded myself in our bedroom, panicking at the idea of throwing up two and a half weeks after open abdominal surgery. “I cannot throw up! I just can’t!” I sob-whispered. “It will hurt too much! I’ll burst open!”
My stepmother told me to think positively, because I probably wouldn’t get sick. “No, you don’t understand!” I whimpered. “It’s like, the cardinal rule of having little kids. If your kids get a stomach bug, YOU will get a stomach bug. You can’t ESCAPE IT! I’M GOING TO GET IT! IT’S JUST A MATTER OF WHEN!”
I comforted myself by staying in bed from 5 p.m. until 11 p.m. binge-watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix. (That show is awesome, BTW, and I was sad when I finished the whole season. Is there anything Tina Fey can’t do?)
He was home sick for a day, but my mom was in town to help out by that point (since I can’t drive or do much of anything for another couple of weeks). I continued to panick and attack every surface in our home with Lysol wipes.
FORESHADOWING: It did not work.
Michael was better by Tuesday night, and returned to work. Mom and I kept crossing our fingers and praying that we’d stay healthy — me, especially, because of the aforementioned not wanting to burst open in the stomach area.
But then … late Wednesday night/early Thursday morning … it struck us …
Mom and I got sick at just about the *exact* same time, which is odd, because that’s exactly what happened with C and D on Friday. We were miserable all day Thursday, but luckily that was the kids’ once-a-week day with the babysitter down the street (a.k.a. my writing day).
I was never so happy to pay for childcare, let me tell you. Michael came home early from work, fed them breakfast, ran them to the sitter’s, and then he came home and all three of us slept until it was time to pick them up.
Today really is Good Friday, because we all finally feeling halfway normal. The plague is over, for now, and hopefully we won’t have any more stomach virus outbreaks until at least the fall of 2016/winter of 2017. Please?
Seriously, if you find out which arm of the medical community was responsible for buggering up this year’s flu shot? Which WE ALL GOT, POINTLESSLY? Let me know. I have a strongly-worded GIF I’d like to send their way.