Emma did a little random spit up on Saturday Morning - but went on to nibble on her meals through the rest of the day. So seemingly insignificant that I forgot about it actually. Belle, Jack and Daddy all got various degrees of intestinal difficulties beginning on Sunday and Alex joined in the merriment on Monday morning. I had to take off of work on Monday to help tend my troops (four puking and or pooping babies!) - especially since poor daddy tried to drag himself into work in his delirium resulting in him passing out around 3:00 PM. I was feeling good, nursing my kiddos back to health (though admittedly I was not as sensitive to Tony's needs I should have been, but totally didn't grasp the scope of his agony until later) and feeling like this whole mess just may pass me over... and that, my dears, was my first mistake.
My second mistake was waking up on Wednesday morning with what felt like month 2 morning sickness (for me this was puking 2-3 times daily) and thinking working would be totally do-able. I mean really - I work IN THE NEXT ROOM... If it got too bad I could scurry to the bathroom. Even spending nearly an hour tied to the bathroom in the morning I still cheerily got dressed, did my hair and makeup, and gamely moved into position in the office. And then the room started to spin. And I wasn't sure that I really had the strength to sit up at all. And I thought I had to puke - or do the other thing that people do with intestinal ailments. So I did what all good work from home employees do - I got my laptop and set up camp in my bed.
There. That's not so bad! I can TOTALLY deliver lessons while lounging in my bed! Just clicky click through the slides with the kiddos and feign enthusiasm that I clearly didn't feel today (even though it was a killer lesson)... I got through section 1. I started section 2. But the more I talked the more nauseous I became. I had to assign the students virtual busy work while I made a bathroom visit. I was writhing around the bed trying to come up with a completely elusive comfortable position - say what you will about the convenience of a laptop - you can't use them well while curled in the fetal position. After round two to the bathroom I called uncle and sent out a plea to my lovely co-workers. One of the new guys on my team of mentee's jumped to my rescue, logged into my classroom and ran my final sessions for me. What a sweetheart. I assured him that I'd be right there on IM if he needed me.
Thank god he never called. Because I immediately passed out into a fitful and non restful sleep. Tony came home shortly there after and proceeded to put any trained nurse to shame. He seriously was like an angel to me. Bringing me cup after cup of chipped ice (it kept melting and I couldn't keep water down but was SO. THIRSTY), ice pops, and jello water. He even managed to change me out of my ridiculous dress that I optimistically donned in the morning and slipped me into a tank top and comfy shorts. He slept on the couch in the room because he remembered feeling like his legs were dead weights, his back was in agony and that he was only comfortable if he spread out. (Please note that he did not mention this while ill and I did not sleep on the couch - affording him no such courtesy) I basically squirmed around on our bed twisting up the sheets and alternately cursing and blessing our ceiling fan. At one point I remember throwing the windows open because I needed fresh air. I later remember gagging over the terrible smell of fresh air. I was, in other words, totally freaking awesome.
The next morning I wasn't much better, though it was clear that the worst was over. I still struggled to make it through the day, but you would never have guessed that Tony's dealings with the kids and me was anything less than a picnic in the park. He breezed in and out of the bedroom to check on me and bring me updates - brought kiddos in for nighttime kisses, and made sure the room was cool, comfortable and well stocked.
Friday my body returned to normal but my brain refused to co-operate. I was so behind in my work but couldn't fully comprehend what needed to be done or what I should even do to go through the motions. Tony came home chuckling that he had submitted paper work earlier in the week while he was sick and it was returned to him for being relatively incomprehensible. He said he couldn't even make sense of his notes and in fact had no memory of ever completing the forms. This sickness was a doozy - and it had a mean right hook. By the time my mind returned to normal (on Sunday) I remembered that the application was due for an internal position the following day at 8 am so I put on my smart sounding writer cap and channeled my college self (who was, humbly, a GENIUS at resumes) and holed myself in the office from 9pm - 12 am.
And so, my friends, this little story - with all of it's adorable mental imagery and vivid descriptions was NOT to get you all psychosomatic and thinking you were coming down with a zinger, but to beg off the fact that I didn't write a blessed thing for the last week. What's worse is that I have little in the way of photos to go with the time either - it seemed pretty awful to take pics of the kids puking - or a handheld shot of myself doing the same... Luckily I STILL didn't get my pictures up from Derby Day, I have the Mothers Day Craft, the girls first sleepover, and Jack being adorable and mowing the grass still in the vault... so you have something to look forward to -as long as we all stay healthy! Get thee to a CVS and swallow some air-born STAT!