Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Mr. Magorium's Vomitorium

It wasn’t sanding walls in the basement that made Saturday a long day. It wasn’t watching two football games or taking the boys sledding that made the day seem like two. Nope. Tearing out some hideous paneling and replacing it with drywall in the downstairs bathroom proved challenging and frustrating, especially as the evening hours stretched into the late night. As the night wore on I started feeling sluggish and a little thick-headed, so I was not at all surprised to feel that I was not holding the sheet rock properly when I ran a razor knife across a seam and through two fingers. Thankfully, I had yet to change blades. If there was a fresh blade in the knife I would be writing about an emergency room visit instead of two fingers with a couple of funky cuts. No. The day became very, very long when the Boss and I went upstairs at midnight to go to bed and walked into Mr. Magorium's Vomitorium.

Two things happened at once as we passed through the kitchen and into the living room. The Boss heard Major Havoc crying. She went into his bedroom and found him sitting in the corner of his loft, sobbing, looking at a pool of Technicolor burp between his legs. As that was happening, I caught the unmistakably strong stench of fresh hork coming from the bathroom. I opened the door and discovered the source of the odor. The bathroom looked like someone had stood in the doorway and hurled in the general direction of the toilet. It was everywhere! I discovered the reason why when moments later Major Havoc ran down the hall and joined me in the bathroom for round three of his many retchscapades. The poor kid. You could tell by watching him that throwing up hurt.

This event called for a divide-and-conquer strategy, something my wife and I do very well. The Boss cleaned up the boy and worked on his bedding while I located the industrial strength cleaning supplies and attacked the bathroom. There wasn’t a corner of the room that escaped the onslaught. By 12:45 a.m. the room was clean and the boy was in my bed. Yes, sick kids always get one side of mom and dad’s bed. It’s a law or something. I set up camp on the couch and we all settled down for a long winter’s nap.

Exactly five minutes later we heard a rather loud thud followed by heavy thumping. General Mayhem tore out of his bedroom and headed for the bathroom. The Boss and I met at the bathroom door and looked in. There was the General, on his knees, assuming the position. We both started to laugh. “It’s not funny!” he shouted, in between spews. It really wasn’t, but could this really have been happening five minutes after we cleaned up from the first boy? What were the odds? We couldn’t help but laugh. I’m not certain whether or not we adequately explained our humorous approach to his discomfort, but after he returned to bed I took out all of the cleaning supplies that I had just put away and rewashed the entire bathroom.

It’s the splash-back that causes the damage, you know. I guess it takes years of experience to judge the correct distance between your face and the surface of the water based upon the velocity of the pitch, practice the boys have yet to attain. Aren’t you glad that I’m here to explain these things for you? You’re welcome. I finished cleaning the bathroom and was comfortably back on the couch by 1:30.

Where I slept for an hour.

That’s when the G.E.R.D. started. It burned. I felt nauseous. I tried sleeping in a sitting position. It helped for a bit, but I knew I was simply prolonging the inevitable. And inevitable it was, because at one point during the night I found myself on my knees in front of the bowl, just like my sons before me. I had two thoughts before convulsing so hard that I thought I would turn myself inside-out. (If I had seen my toes wiggling in the bowl when I was finished it would not have surprised me one bit.) The first thought was, “This is going to suck.” My second thought was, “I sure am glad I cleaned the toilet.” I managed to keep it all in the bowl. There was no need for a third round of bathroom cleaning, but I understand why the boys didn’t. It was the strongest and most painful regurgitation I’ve ever experienced.

I must have been loud. I was loud enough to wake up the General. He came down the hall to join me in bathroom. I’m not certain what persuaded the young lad to provide color commentary for this event, or to even think that it was necessary, but I caught odd phrases, like the obvious, “Are you sick?” The casual, “Hurts, doesn’t it?” And the untimely, “You know, there was this kid in scouts who got sick in his sleeping bag once…” I had neither the strength nor the energy to respond. Blessedly, he disappeared. After I was certain that I was finished, I returned to the living room only to find the General sitting on the couch across from my bed, talking to me. I was capable of only two words at that moment. “Go,” was one of them. “Bed” was the other. Inside my head I was thinking, “Un. Freaking. Believable. He wants to chat about it.”

I slept most of Sunday. I was in bed. The Boss and the kids were on the couch, watching TV. I was up for some football, then returned to bed and slept until the fourth quarter of the Packers game. It was a tough loss with some truly poor officiating at the end of the game which probably cost the Packers a win (not that allowing your opponent to score 51 points helped the cause). And that’s coming from a Bears fan (crying crocodile tears). When I was awake the Boss made it clear that there were two halves of our sectional, the sick half and the well half. The girls were on the well half. The boys were on the sick half. Since the Captain started the weekend with sickness of her own last Friday morning, we figured that she was not only finished with her bought of stomach flu but that she most likely gave it to us. The Boss just smiled and commented frequently on how she hoped to escape this one.

My wife came home early from work yesterday…

12 comments:

CrossView said...

Oh my! Since you wrote this, I assume all are well now? I tend to laugh about those kinds of incidents. Because vomit is the one thing that is contagious to me. If I clean it up, I will add to it. Thankfully, reading about yours isn't affecting me. You have my utmost sympathy sicne you had bathroom clean-up!

TobyBo said...

I cannot even believe I read this. Hope it is all over and stays far far away from the Banana household.

Janitorial Supplies said...

Cleaning the bathroom is the worst, should of made the Boss do that one!

Michelle said...

ugh, so sorry that your going through that and hope all, including the Boss, feels better soon!! I can appreciate your vomitorium-after Kailyn threw up all over my bed the other night, Trey woke me up last night throwing up. Thankfully, he made it in the bathroom and the toilet!! WOnder who's next?

Brownie said...

Fortunately we have had few vomitting spells around here. I generally resist it whenever possible as it ALWAYS goes through my NOSE!! Sir on the other hand will welcome it as he sees that it gets rid of whatever shouldn't be in his system. Red, in his small life, has only vomitted twice... and he refers to it as "spilling".

But I am always the one to clean it up.

Oklahoma Granny said...

I certainly hope that your family has found their way back to a healthy state. The episodes you all experienced have got to be the very worst part of being sick.

jedijson said...

Besides "hork," other things we call it in our house: "the technicolor yawn," "parking the Buick," "the cough that keeps on giving," and "health insurance reform."

I've been there. I'll probably be there again. Not funny, but still HA-LARIOUS at the same time! Glad to see you could get a laugh out of it.

The Pirate Mom said...

Well, I have to say, this is one of the more interesting things I've ever read on vomit. Glad you and the kids are feeling better. I hope the Boss is on the mend too!

~Kellie

tsinclair said...

Vomit is my kryptonite. I am no good there, on either end.
Sorry to hear about it...I can say that with the Packers game you had company in that sadness. My son is a huge Packers fan and was very upset Sunday.
Hope everyone gets better soon

Papa Bear said...

I've never laughed so hard about puke. Not since junior high, anyway. About two hours later, my son redecorated the bathroom. Naturally, I blame you.

Kathleen said...

So I guess what you're saying is that YOU have mastered the physics of puking?

I hope everyone is 100% very soon!!

TobyBo said...

ack. I took a chance of stopping by again... at least I brought Lysol along this time.

I just wanted to thank you for the list of long-lived /D/ people. I am amazed that you know that sort of thing off the top of your head. :P