On Sunday night, I was mentally preparing myself for post writing and catching up on “24”. The phone rang, and my BIL was frantic, saying that he needed to take my SIL to the emergency room.
She had some sort of BAD stomach virus/plague/dysentery (or insert worse case scenario) and he was wondering if I could come over and watch their 3 boys while they were gone.
I said OF COURSE, and grabbed my laptop thinking that at the very least I could get some work done after the boys were tucked safely in bed.
When I arrived, I helped pack her up with a barf bowl for the ride, and a blanket for comfort. The boys and I settled in to watch a movie. I made a mental note to wash my hands frequently because if you’ll recall, over the week of Christmas my entire family contracted a hideous stomach virus that prompted more than one of us to make out our last will and testament.
Not more than 5 minutes after they had made their hasty exit, the #2 nephew said, “Aunt DeeDee, my tummy hurts.”
This is the child that is known for his nervous stomach. I offered a comforting, “Dude, you’re going to be all right.” And before I could draw my next breath, he threw himself down on all 4’s and threw up on the Persian area rug.
The ENTIRE house is either tiled or laminated, save for the 8×9 Persian rug. But he managed to throw up on the only rug in the house.
He evidently had been saving up a good deal of groceries for this display, because I seriously considered simply rolling up the rug and throwing it out on the lawn.
But clearer heads prevailed, and I knew the rug would be missed eventually.
I started hollering out orders to the 2 other brothers, who continued watching “The Bible Story” DVD. GET ME A PLASTIC BOWL, WHERE ARE THE PAPER TOWELS? LYSOL, I NEED LYSOL. DO YOU HAVE ANY RUBBER GLOVES???
“No. What do you need rubber gloves for Aunt DeeDee? So you don’t have to feel it?”
That’s when my eyes rolled into the back of my head and the room went dark.
If you know anything at all about me, you would know that whenever vomit makes an appearance, I’m the first one that leaves the building. For everyone’s sake, really. Because if I even THINK someone is going to throw up, I’m certain to beat them to it.
Unfortunately in this case, I was the only adult present. So I had to deal with the mess efficiently and immediately. As I was assessing the situation (read: praying like I’ve never prayed before for Jesus to come back right then and there) I heard the family dog click click click across the laminated flooring. Making a beeline straight for the pile of vomit.
That scenario played itself out in my head and I knew I had to prevent it lest I loose consciousness and fall face first into the whole mess.
What is it with dogs and vomit, anyway? Reason #254 why I don’t want a dog.
So with one foot out keeping Rascal at bay, I piled layer upon layer of Bounty paper towels down over the mound of puke. And I scooped everything up and deposited it into an odor resistant top tie kitchen garbage bag. And let me just pause to tell you, I STILL FELT IT! I just made Conservationists everywhere groan with disapproval over the fact that I single handedly commandeered a land fill .
I made the boys talk to me about ANYTHING other than what I was doing, and I tried to go to my happy place in my head while humming a merry tune.
When everything was sufficiently cleansed, I made sure that nephew #2 had a nice large plastic bowl with him at all times. I told him that the bowl was his friend, and he must never be without it. The bowl came in handy 15 minutes when MONTEZUMA’S REVENGE struck him.
Oh, that was a memorable bonding moment.
I was grateful that my SIL kept a stash of scented candles positioned throughout her house, because every 2 minutes or so, I had to stick my head into one and just breathe deeply.
Meanwhile, back at the emergency room, my SIL hadn’t been seen because Sunday night in Equator, Florida is an exciting place to be, what with all the gun fire and such.
And when you are in the emergency room with a stomach flu, a gaping chest wound takes precedence.
It looked like she would be there for the long haul, and she was in good hands there, so mercifully my BIL came back home to check on nephew #2. I’VE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY TO SEE MY BIL IN MY WHOLE LIFE.
We decided that I should go home, and wait for my SIL to finish at the ER, and then I would go and retrieve her. I picked up my unused laptop, and started to leave. Just as I heard the other two nephews say, “My tummy hurts.”
In two steps, I was out to my car and aiming down the street towards home. There were more than a few mailboxes along the way that will never be the same. When I arrived, I boiled my hands and burned my clothes. And said a Hail Mary, even though I’m no longer Catholic.
At 1:30 in the morning I got the call to go and spring my SIL from the ER. When I arrived, she was looking much better. She had been hydrated with an I.V. and had been given a shot for the nausea. She had the same thing we had in December. A stomach flu. A really bad one. And it seems that by this time of the morning, her husband called to report while freaking completely out that all 3 of her children had it coming out of both ends.
Driving back home, with all the windows open, I asked her if she was sure she wanted me to take her home. Knowing she was heading straight into the pit of hell.
When we got close to her house, I slowed a bit and pushed her out. Because that’s what family is for…
I’m just kidding. I really didn’t slow down all that much.
I talked to her today, and everyone is doing better. I’ll be sending over my recipe for Grandma’s Potato Soup.
I would take a batch over, but I’m feeling a little green around the gills. Not even kidding. If you don’t hear from me for a couple of days, send Saltines.
And rubber gloves.