The worst thing that could happen to someone on a holiday that is centered around food happened to me.
It wasn’t just “Oh, my stomach is upset, I’m just going to rest a little bit.” It was full blown food poisoning.
It started the day before Thanksgiving. I was woken up by a gagging sound and when I check Corbin my half asleep mind thought a logical thing was that he was drinking out of his sippy cup in his sleep. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did. It wasn’t until the scared shitless crying started that I realized what happened. So I wake Nick up, we take Corbin to the kitchen (it was closer and easier to get to than the bathroom) and start to clean him up. After that we get him to calm down with some cuddling and a movie, but he doesn’t go back to sleep.
Awesome. The day starts at 5AM.
On the plus side (the few that there is in this story) I got to start another crocheted Christmas present, so now I only have to figure out one more for the kids. This one is going to be a hat, that looks like a shark, for Peanut. It’s not finished but here’s what I have so far. (Pattern here)
Anyway, at this point I’m feeling fine. We sit around until about noon, Nick’s mom goes out and get some doughnuts for us, then we start finishing up the cleaning that needs to be done in the house. I’m scrubbing walls and doing dishes and all of a sudden I’m nauseous. Like a brick hitting my stomach, I’m fine then I’m not. So I sit down and rest and cuddle my sick little man, who got a nice long morning nap and hasn’t thrown up at all since 5AM.
Finally Nick’s mom decides it’s time to go to the store and get the last minute stuff that is needed for dinner. I offer to go and help so I get myself ready, still feeling ungodly nauseous, get Corbin ready, we get all into the car and off we go. About halfway through the store I need to rush off to the bathroom because something made me gag, I don’t remember what but I can guess some sort of body odor since we were in the middle of a packed Wal-Mart, and I don’t think that it’s just a gag. I make to the bathroom and nothing.
Okay, fine, my stomach is just upset.
About 5 minutes later we’re heading up front and I tell Nick’s mom that I need to get some fresh air and I’ll find her in a minute. I run outside, make it to the trash can, heave….and nothing. I sit down next to the trashcan and all of a sudden I’m a volcano. I learned one thing that day that makes me giggle. This is from personal experience. If you’re drunk outside of a bar and you throw up there will be 10 people around you making sure that you’re alright and that you have someone to take you home, if you’re crouched next to a trashcan outside of Wal-Mart in the middle of the day and you’re throwing up, people look at you like you’re the scum of the earth. Why they were looking at me like that, I don’t know. But that’s what happened.
Once we got home I spent the rest of the night on the couch throwing up in a bowl. At this point it honestly felt like the events of the morning were three days ago. At about midnight I woke up from my dozing and drink some more Gatoraid and bite off a corner of a cracker, only for it all to come back up about 5 minutes later. So since I wasn’t keeping liquids down we decided that it would probably be a good idea for me to go to the hospital. I get two IV’s and some nausea meds and I’m good to go…at 4 in the morning.
A few hours after we get home I wake up to the sound of a badly running Xbox and Nick’s oldest sister playing a game. Then about half an hour later a fire truck shows up with a box of Thanksgiving food for the family. Nick’s aunt had set this up and no one was expecting it to show up before 10 but they showed up half an hour early. So at this point everyone is up, I’m afraid to eat anything even though my stomach is feeling better, and we’re all waiting to get the food ready.
Honestly, most of that day went fine. I didn’t throw up at all, everyone was in a decent mood, and the turkey got in the oven at the last minute and no one had an issue with that. Fast forward to dinner and I’m looking forward to having some food in me.
The turkey looks delicious, there was only one mishap in the kitchen with the green bean casserole and a short attention span, and dinner is on. One bite down, I’m fine. Two bites, still fine. Finished a small piece of turkey…I shouldn’t had started eating at all. I spent the rest of the night huddled on the couch with an upset stomach and a migraine.
That’s the story about my 48 hour sicks-giving. I was still sick the next day, and two days later I can’t sit or stand straight without having horrible stomach cramps. So now when people are going to ask me how my Thanksgiving was I can tell them the truth of me being a volcano of vomit, or I can just tell them that it was fine once we got the burnt onions off of the green bean casserole. I think I might go with the second option.