Queasy like Sunday Morning

I haven’t posted in nearly a week.

I’m so sorry. I hope you haven’t given up on me for good. Trust me, I have a good excuse.

Saturday night I got home from a friend’s bridal shower and I felt kinda blah, like this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something just wasn’t quite right. I took some Tums and tried to sleep. But by 10:00 pm, I found out that Tums wasn’t going to touch what was causing the rumblings in my tumblings, and things went downhill quickly from there.

As J put it, my body was like a fire drill. Everything was heading for the exits.

All night long horrible things happened in my bathroom until I felt like I was going to die right there on the cold tile floor. I was too sick to go to the hospital. Too sick to move unless my bowels said it was absolutely necessary.

About 5 am I decided that I was at the point where I needed some serious drugs or dehydration might not be far away. There was absolutely no way I could have gone to the ER to get some, so J and I started a frantic search for a bottle of phenergan that I swore I had leftover from my pregnancy days. I knew that was the Last Great Hope that would put an end to the dry heaving and help me get some rest. That bottle was nowhere to be found, so what do you do when you need help? Call your mama.

I called my mom but she didn’t think she had any drugs to help me. She did say that she would come over and help out with Garrett while I died a thousand deaths in my bathroom floor, so that was a huge relief.

I knew my sister usually had a stash of anti nausea medication after a nasty bout of food poisoning a few years back, but getting her to answer the phone (or a doorbell) at 5:00 am on a Sunday was completely impossible. And believe me, I tried. I called her house repeatedly. I called her cell. I sent texts. I called again. I called her husband’s cell phone. J even drove to their house and banged on their door and woke up the entire neighborhood, but they slept right on through it.

When my mom arrived, and she came with a pill.

A single white pill in a ziploc bag that had written on the outside in Sharpie:

Phenergan-big pill
Lomotil- small pill

So then I had a dilemma. With only one pill in the bag, how was I supposed to know if the phenergan was the big one or the small one? I debated that one for about .02 seconds, and popped that thing on down the hatch. Lomotil was like immodium but better, so it definitely couldn’t hurt the situation.

And then I thought of a friend who shall remain nameless. (Edit: I realized last night after I posted this that this next part was probably a criminal act, so I have decided try to preserve my friend’s anonymity here on the innernet. For the sake of privacy, let’s call my friend “Ms. X”) Ms. X knows people. Ms. X has connections. Medical type connections. Maybe, I thought, maybe Ms. X can save me if this little white pill doesn’t work out.

And save me she did.

She came through even better than I imagined. She brought over a ziploc bag with 4 little meprozine pills. Meprozine, my friends, is phenergan AND MORPHINE COMBINED!

SCORE!

I took just one of those suckers and passed out for like 15 hours straight. I was out cold. Turns out the other pill I took was in fact phernergan, so I got a double dose of that with a little morphine on top for good measure. Talk about sleeping like a rock. I slept so hard I couldn’t even move. At one point I looked at the glass of water on my nightstand that was just inches from my head, and but I was too drugged weak to lift my arm and bring it to my mouth for a drink. I was too weak to even call for J in the other room to bring it to me. So I just layed there and parched. But at the time, I was just thankful to not be vomiting or worse.

The next time I moved it was dark outside and J was putting Garrett in his pajamas for bedtime on Sunday night. I lost an entire day of my life. Sometime during that day my sister had finally received my 10 voicemails and 20 text messages begging her to bring her stash of anti-nausea meds. She had delivered an entire bottle of phenergan to my house. Actually to my mailbox, because she refused to come anywhere near the germs inside my house. Good call on that one. At another point in the day my inlaws came over to relieve my mom and J of babysitting duties. I never even knew they were there.

I started feeling a bit better about 9 pm, had some fluids, stood up without falling over, etc. Went back to bed and slept until about 3 am, when I awoke to the sound of J in the bathroom, making noises that no human should ever make.

And so it began for him.

But at least this time we were armed with plenty of drugs. Not that it really helped in those first few hours of toilet hugging, but it did help eventually.

I even went to the doctor on Monday morning just to get us another prescription of phenergan. That stuff is like GOLD, I tell you. Gold.

On the upside, we each lost 10 lbs since Sunday.

On the downside, both my mom and his mom also caught the plague. But we shared more of our drugs with them and we all survived this round with the nasty stomach bug of 2008.

I hope I never see a stomach bug like him again. He was scarier than my IRA statement this month.

I hope you guys have had a much better week than us.