It started the previous weekend, when #2 just began projectile vomiting all over the place. No warning, no indication of illness, just vomit, lots of it, and spread out throughout the duration of the day. It was quite unpleasant. But after a good night’s sleep, the worst of it was over, and after another 24 hours, it was as if she were never sick at all.
A few days later, mythical wife rolls in from work, and is pretty much laid up for the remainder of the day with similar symptoms. That night, I hear more crying from usual from #1 on the baby monitor, to the point where I feel like I have to check in on her. The scent of vomit is in the air upon entering her room, and it turns out that she too has caught the bug. After several hours of hanging out with her, reading her books, and letting her purge everything that’s been in her system, by 1 am, she’s finally asleep.
Same thing, a day later, nobody is vomiting anymore, and a day after that and everyone is mostly back to normal again, although mythical wife seemed to drag a little bit more than the girls did.
Days later, I’m on the phone with my mom on the way home from work. It had been a long day, and one that really required the second cup of coffee in order to make it home. I’m telling my mom how it very fortunate that I managed to avoid the bug, considering how hard it hit the wife and kids.
Sure enough, no sooner than maybe a half hour after getting home, I’m beginning to feel unsettled. After the kids are put to bed, I don’t dawdle much and head to bed myself, feeling cruddy. About an hour later, the first bout of vomiting occurs, and its apparent that I must definitely did not escape the wrath of the bug either.
The following day is a miserable day of illness where the only thing I did when I wasn’t laying down drifting in and out of sleep, is a death march to and from the bathroom with some rather unpleasant purges. I slog through the work day, and my entire WFH Friday is completely burned, where I get no work done, and accomplish none of the little side chores I do in between. I’m starving and thirsty, but don’t want to put anything into my body when it’s clearly rejecting everything in sight. I don’t get back to sleep until closer to 4 am due to the constant need to get up and go to the toilet.
But much like everyone else, I’m mostly fine in 72 hours, which seems to be the norm for the adults with the bug. Lucid enough to be able to watch and slog through the Super Bowl, which was boring as fuck until the end and OT.
However, the real tragedy of me getting the bug is that, circling back to that second cup of coffee that I had on Thursday, I know that had nothing to do with me getting sick, but because it was one of the last things I consumed before I started getting sick, my body has decided to hold it responsible all the same. Even now as I write this, I’m leery on the idea of drinking a cup of black coffee, which is how I drink it at work because my workplace offers no creamers or additives and often times doesn’t even provide the coffee in the first place. But when I do drink coffee at the office, it’s black, except now my body is revolting at the idea of consuming anymore black coffee right now.
Even my morning cup of coffee, which has some flavored creamer in it, I’m still a little ehhh about at the moment, but I guess the added flavor and the fact that my body can’t really start without it, it’s an exception to be allowed, but frankly coffee in general has been very unappealing since I’d gotten sick, which completely sucks because I love coffee, and this is why the human body is capable of being so cruel.
Coffee had nothing to do with my getting sick, but because coffee undoubtedly made its way out during my mass purging, it’s like my body is blaming it anyway, and I’m still working myself back to being able to actually enjoy coffee again, and I feel like it’s going take an obnoxious amount of time before I really feel comfort and relaxation from a really good cup of coffee again.
