Scarred

My husband and I are scarred by vomit. In his eight short years, our son has vomited so many times, I just LAUGH at people when they tell me that they were up 3 times during the night with their sick child and are so tired. It's not that I don't feel bad for them, I totally know how tired they are. But until you've been up several nights in a row, several times a month, countless times a year, cleaned up puke in the house, in the car, in the ER waiting room, in the ER hospital room, on the x-ray table and thrown away so many sets of sheets you can't even remember having - well, then, I'm going to laugh (I'm not laughing AT you, and you're thinking, 'Well, you're not laughing WITH me because I'm not laughing'...I'm laughing because laughter is the best medicine!!)

Try this on for size: once, our son walked into the kitchen, grabbed a barstool like it was the toilet bowl and just threw up on it (he really did think he was in the bathroom). We called that episode "the puking zombie."

Even the SOUND of vomit makes us cringe. Last night, our croupy daughter woke up coughing. The sound of her coughing from across the house sounded like her getting sick. We were jolted awake and darted to the kids' rooms to see which one it was that was sick - and she was just laying there, asleep, but coughing. Whew. It happened twice more - making us very tired today. The other night when she came out of her room, the look on her face screamed "I'm going to throw up" and I just grabbed her and turned her away from me and pushed her back toward the bathroom. Then I said "Are you ok? Are you getting sick?"

REALLY? My FIRST reaction was to push her AWAY from me. I've been puked on SO many times, the fear trumped my maternal instinct. The worst part of it is that she had croup and couldn't BREATHE, for crying out loud, and I just turned her AWAY from me. I'm so ashamed.

Today, while I was at a meeting, my colleague and friend, Lori, got sick in our office bathroom. She is my office mate, and sits just a few feet from me. I came back to find her racing out the door to leave, having disinfected as best she could given that she could hardly stand (the poor thing did this knowing how very awful it is to take germs home to my son). It was fate that I was at a meeting when it happened.

Yes, people, I'm scarred. Sue me. Thankfully, our son's episodes are getting fewer and father between, thanks to infusion (which ironically also caused puking - i.e. chemo) and very good medication. But I think for as long as I live, the scar will never heal.

I guess there could be worse things. Just don't expect me to bring you soup when your sick with the stomach flu, OK?!