Tuesday, December 05, 2006

12/5

"Mama said there'd be days like this....mama said that there'd be days....oh don't you worry cuz...."

I get a call yesterday evening from the hypochondriac daycare that is single-handedly trying to get me fired from my job. Zac had been throwing up. A lot. Ok, maybe it wasn't so unreasonable for them to be worried about that. I left work at 4pm with a comment from my boss that I need to start making up the hours that I've missed (even though I'm NOT over my alotted sick time, she just feels like I've been taking a lot of time off to take care of my son. I haven't.)
When I walk into the daycare I see a miserable looking kid with puffy eyes and snot coming out his nose. Yep, that's mine over there. He had thrown up maybe four times since waking up from his nap. Getting him home didn't help much. Everytime I left the room to get something, I would walk back in to find him crying on the floor next to a puddle of vomit.

That went on for about three hours.

I had to disinfect every surface in my house including the floor, the walls, and my couch cushions. The boy can vomit. and then poop. and then vomit while pooping.

I realized that we were out of milk and garbage bags (two crucial items in the single-man pooping / vomit bridgade) and had to go to the store. It was at that exact moment that I would have given my right arm for someone - ANYONE - to have been there to help me. To go the store and pick up what my child needed. Looked around, didn't see anyone, and thought I should get going before it got too late.

Fortunately, Zac and I made it through the store without puking. He waited until I was right inside my apartment, holding two gallons of milk and three gallons of bottled water before spewing. I thought about other frozen and perishable items I had left in the car, then I saw Zac trying to wipe vomit out of his eye with his sleeve that was also dirty and I knew I had to take care of him. I knocked on my neighbors' door and plaintively said, "I need help".

He quickly got all of my groceries out of my car and even went back twice for my mail and my work bag. I seriously might have just let the $90 of groceries go bad in the car had he not come and helped us. You might have found me, a couple of days later, lying next to a dried pile of puke with Zac crawling all over me. I just wanted to lay down and not get up.

Things calmed down once Zac went to bed. I was able to call my Grandma back in Seattle, fold some of the pile of laundry I had to wash, and cleaned the carpet the best I could. I made the mistake, though, during a conversation with Mr. Tugboat to mention how upset I was with our conversation from the night before. Let's just say, the night got even worse from that point on. The heartburn is back and I didn't get a lot of sleep.

On a bright note, I think I got all the vomit out my hair this morning in the shower.

7 comments:

CruiserMel said...

I am going on the record to say that in the future, I will think twice about complaining of having too much to do.

Have a puke-free day.

doow said...

Ouch, that sounds like one hell of a day - for both of you! Thank goodness for friendly neighbours. Hope Zac is better soon.

wildflower said...

Hang in there, babe. This is one of those stories that makes me want to drive down to TX to change diapers for you while you're at work. Love you and Zman both!

Caroline said...

Sounds like you had a rough night. Hope Zac gets to feeling better soon. Hang in there.

jenna said...

oh sweets. keep us updated, ok? i'm a little concerned about both your's and zac's medical issues of late.

Amanda. said...

My friendly neighbors have rescued me numerous times!

Hope Zac (and you) feel better soon.

sarcastic journalist said...

Poor thing. do you have any pepto? As my Mom (the nurse) would say, the second they start doing that, start popping Pepto.

Also, it is kind of farish (I think) but Whole Foods has this thing where you can call ahead and they'll pick out your food for you. Several stores in town (and also, there are some services) have delivery.

Poor Mama. Hang in there and tell Mr. Z to stop it!