Sliding Into Home

I know that I am not the only one who has gotten the poops but for whatever reason it is a taboo sickness to talk about. I mean one can talk about having a fever or sore throat, even ralphing into a trash can at two in the morning but heaven forbid anyone ever admit they spent a considerable amount of unpleasant time sitting on the pot. Especially for a lady! Wheeww wee! I think most guys think that girls just don't poop or fart or have any 'unlady' like ejections out of our body... I know my husband does and he has just been beside himself these past few days when I have become a permanent fixture in our upstairs bathroom.

I of course have had a HORRIBlE case of diarrhea. It all started Sunday night after I just got done battling a sore throat and achiness all Saturday and Sunday. I felt a rumble in the gut as I was laying in bed and decided to go sit on the pot to make sure it wasn't a pooper coming on. Well good thing because next thing I know it was like someone was pouring a water bottle into the toilet. I was pretty surprised with this news and promptly went into share my new found sickness with my husband. He was less than pleased to hear this little factoid and tried to keep sleeping. (Mind you he was sleeping in the spare room, and still is since I have decided to become a germ magnet.) About a hour later I awoke again to what sounded like a toilet flushing but what I quickly realized was my stomach. I made a mad dash to the pot and barely made it. Pretty much after that it was all over. My night was full of running to and fro my side of the bed and taking cat naps on my knees for fear of leaving the porcelain prints. My new permanent bed mate, our 95 lb. version of Marley, was utterly bewildered with the whole situation. He is used to a nice quite sleep with maybe one or two awakenings for the baby but never to watch his mom dash around like she was doing circuit training in the bedroom. Multiple times he sat up in bed, looked down at me and cocked his head at my very verbal stomach. It seemed like every time I would drag myself back to bed he had made his way over to my side. When I told him to scoot over he would look up at me like 'what you aren't really getting up?' One time when I came back to bed his paws were digging into my back so I took them and rotated them over to the other side. This caused half his body to be on the bed and half off. When he woke he was shocked to find himself not fully supported by the mattress. When he tried to make a move to rearrange himself he only caused himself to fall off the bed. This obviously was a bit of a rude awakening because he laid down there for a second, stood up, shook and jumped back up on the bed and promptly reclaimed his spot in the middle. By 5:29am I was in a bit of a panic. I was at the realization that I had lost so much fluid that I could not drink enough to get me even back to equal. I watched the clock turn 5:30 and I promptly went into the guest room and asked my husband to get up so he could run to the store to get me some Gatorade. I informed him at this rate of loss I would be in the hospital before noon. Around this time when I was in a little bit of a hysteria about my fluid loss, I called into work to tell my boss I would not be making it in today. But for whatever reason I always feel I need to justify why I can't come in. Now I cannot recall the word for word message I left but it was something to the effect of beating a path between the bed and the bathroom and I'll be back someday if I don't die. (I would later find out he laughed so hard at the message he saved it.)

A little after my husband and daughter left for the day I went into the bathroom and weighed myself. I so happened to have weighed myself the day before since I really wasn't eating anything much over the weekend and wondered if on Sunday if I lost any weight. Well from that weight I had dropped another 5 lbs. of water weight overnight! I knew this was serious. I started guzzling the Gatorade like it was my job (yes, thankfully my husband did make it out to the store to buy me some much needed fluid/electrolyte replenisher).... which did make me feel a little better but only added to the number of times I was having to make a trip to the bathroom.

The day went by and my trips became less and less but I think that was in direct correlation to the fact that all I had eaten was 6 Saltines and one serving of Cream of Wheat. I took this as a good sign although my energy to even walk to the kitchen was quickly weaning. The next morning I called into work again and said I might try to make it in for a half day if I got a little of my energy back. I kept some oatmeal down and decided to give it a go for half a day. When I got to work I started to feel SUPER hungry and decided to try some real food in an effort to regain some energy.... my first food...popcorn. Now my thought process was... popcorn, yes that sounds good, it is very plain yet easy to eat. My second food... half of a Jimmy Johns roast beef sandwich. No sooner than one hour after ingesting these two things then did the balls start rolling down the alley of my stomach. Before I knew it I was making mad dashes to our bathroom here at work. I wanted to warn people to stay clear but when I let the chips fall I heard another lady in the stall two down from me working on the same problem! The heck with the swine flu... the bowling alley stomach bug is taking the world by storm!

I contemplated the timing of how I was going to pick my daughter up from daycare since it seemed my lead time between attacks was about 15-20 minutes. A friend of mine at work got out his bag of meds and gave me some Imodium that expired in 2008 but assured me that 'ahh these things never expire.' Unfortunately for me I never did feel the effects of that pill, the old stomach kept on churning. I picked my daughter up with great speed, that sub did give me a little energy, and made my way onto the highway. Only there did the rumbling begin to stir. It sounded eerily similar to the beginning of a thunderstorm... low and far off thunder that you know will inevitably be cracking trees in half within a few short minutes. I was still a good 20 minutes from home and decided to call my mom and the hands free to help take my mind of things. I mistakenly told her what a world of hurt I was in. Upon hearing this she proceeded to berate me for my eating choices. "Popcorn Allison? POPCORN? That is just like eating a head of lettuce for Heaven's sake! That is nothing but ruffage! And a roast beef sandwich? What were you thinking? Haven't I taught you anything? You can eat toast.. PLAIN, you can eat rice... PLAIN, you can eat bread.. PLAIN..." After awhile I must admit I tuned her out in an effort to focus on the problem at hand, making it home. Upon telling her that I didn't need to be lectured on what I should and shouldn't eat I informed her that it was 'going to be close.' This only prompted another series of intense questioning related to what amenities I had in the car to help myself... "Can you reach the diaper bag? Are their diapers in it? Could you grab one and put it under you to save your seats?" All I could think to myself was how I could ever live down? Who even thinks about crapping in their own baby's diapers? Luckily I made it home and she I think was more excited than I although it took a second to relay this.
"Mom I have to go I'm home."
"WHAT?"
"I'M HOME!"
"WHAT YOUR HOME?"
"YES! I'M HOME!" "WELL IF YOUR HOME THEN GO!"
.... I spent the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning paying for my popcorn/sub mistake.

Yesterday I talked to a lady that my husband works with that was the first to have this whole stomach flu mishap. We shared out war stories and she told me that for her and her husband it lasted a full week (I am only on day 4! AGGH!). She did cheer me up though when she told me when her husband had it the first night he had to change his pants three times. If there is anything to ever make you feel better about yourself it is someone else crapping their pants.