15 March 2008

Puke & Rally!

The son is projectile vomiting.

He woke up seemingly fine this morning, and was skillfully working my nerves about getting his driver's permit (St. Christopher, I'm ready to believe in you.), when I suggested we go pick up cinnamon rolls and coffee cream. Then things took a turn for the worse.

Male Offspring: If I had my permit, I could drive, and you could go in the store.

Me: If you had your permit, you'd be a sophomore. Oh ... you're a freshman. Sorry. Let's go.

MO: I seriously don't want to go to the store.

Me: Cinnamon rolls? Please. Lets go.

MO: [whining] My stomach feels weird.

Me: You look pretty normal to me. No fever, no swelling. Seriously, you're not driving, son.

MO: Landon's driving.

Me: Sophomore.

MO: [walking to the bathroom] Yeah, but he had his permit when he was a ...................BRRRAAAAUUUGGGHHH...........
I made him ginger & chamomile tea to settle his stomach. "Sip it slowly," I said, for the ten-thousandth time since drawing that first placebo of a Lamaze breath two decades ago. "I know," he replied, chugging it. Three minutes later the tea was hurled into the toilet with a force that made me suspect the boy was on performance-enhancing steroids.

He's in the bathtub now, mere inches from the toilet. Four episodes of hurling. Dry hurling. The boy can't even keep water down. The offspring and the dogs all have one thing in common: emergency medical situations or extreme illnesses only occur on weekends or holidays. Anything after 5pm on Friday is fair game. In this instance though, I'm not really worried. Not yet, anyway.

Male Offspring is affectionately known as the 24-hour kid when it comes to getting sick. He'll pop up with some serious projectile vomiting, or bust out with a 103.5* fever until you can practically see green ickiness wafting from his pores. During these times, the boy will be seriously sick. Until the next morning, when he wakes up feeling fairly close to fine. It's like he takes a normal 5-day sickness and condenses it into this fevered, mondo-puke-o-rama deal.

So I'm hoping he'll feel better by tomorrow. If not, it's off to the urgent care weekend clinic. Whee. As for me, I'm still coughing like a smoker in LA, even though I (finally) am feeling better. The cough just will not leave. I'm thinking I need to cast it out like the devil, with some sort of cough exorcism ritual. I'm finally starting to get caught up at work though, and am actually cleaning the house this weekend. Brain and body have just been operating in such a fog this year; I feel like one of those gross hairy moths emerging from a cocoon of illish yukkery. I'm so ready for spring, both within and and without.

In better news, this is the weekend when I can finally take Batman out for a walk. Tomorrow is Day 28 of his captivity. I haven't been able to let him run since he hurt his leg, four excruciatingly long weeks ago. You try keeping 70 pounds of crazy locked up for 4 weeks. 150 pounds, if you count Mason. Honestly though, I have to say he's been a very good dog considering he's been imprisoned for the past month.

Anyway, I've been trying to get around to everyone's cyberspaces and sling some comments around, but the online stuff has been flagging along with everything else. Such is life. Spring is coming though, and hopefully a big ol' batch of healthy for everyone along with it.
As hoped, the son is no longer feverish, no longer hurling. The 24-hour kid strikes again. He is asking for a taco and burrito dinner tonight. Always a good sign.


  1. There is nothing exactly like the sound of a kid vomiting, is there? And it's absolutely unmistakable. And the feeling of running toward the sound as you simultaneously want to run away..... Ah the joys of motherhood.

  2. Willym: He was SO excited. I took him and Mason on a 2-miler -- on leash for the most part, I want to make sure he's truly OK before I really let him go free. He was one happy dog, let me tell you. Then they got to the pet store - even better.

    SK: You know, it seems people all over the place are getting this ugly thing. And everyone is relapsing, and the lung stuff and lack of energy just hang on like a dog with a good bone. Today was the first active thing I've done in weeks and weeks.

    Rosemary: The smell of Ben-Gay immediately takes me back to Basic Training. OMG but we used the hell out of some BenGay. Actually, there are 4 things that take me back to Basic: BenGay, Kiwi shoe polish, Brasso (brass polish), and the oil used to clean weapons. But damn, if I'd have known that BenGay contributes to breast growth, I'd have been applying that shit in a whole different way. Who knew?

    I bet Vicks does work as birth control, ha! My grandma used to slather the Vicks on me when I had a cough. Vicks still makes me think of her. Along with Halo shampoo, which unfortunately is no longer made, but smells wonderful.

    SlingStone: Yikes!! Never had the pleasure, but I've heard it's excruciating. Passed 3 kids, though. Walk accomplished -- puppies sleeping soundly. Mason even got a bath. My back couldn't deal with doing 2, so Batman's will have to wait.

    Doralong: I think the whole planet is hacking up bits of lung tissue this winter. And we did do tacos for dinner, but he only ate 3 ... guess the stomach is still feeling a bit fragile.

    E: Oh yeah, and I tell you what, the son gives a whole new meaning to the world "hurl". I'm surprised the force doesn't slam him backwards into the wall. He's old enough now that he doesn't want me running toward the sound of his pukery. I have to strike a careful balance of proper concern without hovering. You never ever imagine that you'll miss the days when they let you hold their foreheads in the midst of chunk blow out. Ah, those were the days!

  3. Glad to hear that he's doing better. Tacos and Burritos are a sure sign of a happier stomach, well, at least until he eats them.

  4. LOL! I'm sorry. I hate that he was sick but find it funny that after puking he wants Mexican food.

  5. Look up in sky! Is that a plane? No! It's Hurl Boy - fighting injustice and his mother's reluctance to let him get his driver's permit one power boot at a time! Taco hurl is particularly pretty - think of it as a technicolor yawn!

    How's that baseboard dusting coming along?


  6. A moth? Nah, more like an iron butterfly, all cynical and tough but with a heart of gold inside and all...just like in the cartoons!
    (The ones in my head, anyway)

  7. KA: Oh, he's right as rain now. I always hated that saying...

    Whim: Yeah ... he keeps me laughing, that one. A regular chuckle buster.

    RG: Technicolor yawn! Blech! My baseboards look fine. as long as youdon't run your finger along it.

    Allan: Hey, I like that!

  8. Glad the guy is back to health. He and I were probably simultaneously hurling, as I had food poisoning at the very same time. It's never fun trying to decide which end should be hanging over the bowl at any moment. Hope you and Batman enjoyed your walk! More pictures of insane canines please.

  9. Tater -- ohno, sorry to hear you were paying homage to the porcelain god as well. Hope all is well now. I recommend tacos.

    Actually I did take some pics of the boys, and was just thinking it was about time for another chapter of canine chronicles.

  10. Glad the boy is recovering. Hope you follow suit soon.

  11. at least he made it to the bathroom.


I've got a fever ...