On Thursday I remembered how much puking sucks.
Because this cute monster hasn’t taken a solid dump in two weeks. But last weekend the doctor assured us he had no intestine-shredding viruses.
But Thursday morning it was ordained that I would prove the doctor wrong.
As Ray stood behind me in the bathroom doorway, laughing ever-so-cutely with each heave from his old man. I’ll remember that, boy.
So I was off of work Thursday and Friday, and have resumed a mostly-normal human form; enough to have a glass of wine as I write this. Chieko was in danger yesterday, feeling nauseous and exhausted at work yesterday, but never crossed the vomit threshold. Ray, naturally, has been bouncing off the wall as his parents limp through life.
We got out a bit today, even if only expose ourself to tens of disease-riddled children at the doctor to get Ray a flu shot, and then another doctor to once again get his bowels analyzed (hehe). The doctor’s take is that one of a million stomach viruses could be causing Ray problems, for none of which there is a hard and fast cure, so best to just treat the symptoms and let it work itself out. I’m fine with that course of action as long as it doesn’t involve me puking anymore.
I’ve learned a lesson in parenting the few days though. It’s stressful when your child is sick; it’s infinitely more stressful when the parents are sick. Those few hours on Thursday morning when I was home alone with Ray and systematically draining my body off all fluids, as he needed diapers changed and food fed, were bad. And of course, I was reminded how easy it is to take health for granted when you have it.
So life is in a bit of jumble right now, but will be back in order soon, I hope. And if I never puke again, that would be really great.
Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving, the holiday I miss most living in Japan. Good night.