A bug by any other name...

A terrible plague has befallen the House of Raich. It is not, thankfully, the dreaded H1N1 (or as Mia calls it, the "H111"...or as Jeff and I lovingly refer to it, the "Hone-None" [pronounced Ho-nee No-nee]. It is also not the much talked about seasonal flu. Rather, it is the less fashionable, but equally horrendous stomach flu--or as Mia's doctor has informed us, is not properly name the flu at all, but is actually named "Viral Gastroenteritis." I personally think it should be named "Death by Vomiting", but that is just my opinion.

It all started one unsuspecting Saturday not so long ago (last weekend actually). Little Jonah woke up a bit cranky. He seemed rather uninterested in eating most of the day and displayed an unusual propensity for spitting up. In hindsight we realize he was actually throwing up. How, you dare say, could we not know our own child was throwing up? This may seem odd, but you must understand that Jonah is a rather hard to read baby. Yes, liquid did escape his mouth on numerous occasions that day, and yes, he was cranky, but he was not obviously sick in any way. We would be walking around the house--Jonah perched on my hip as usual--when suddenly I would hear a 'splat' on the floor. I would look down to find a small puddle of baby spit up at my feet. I would look at Jonah who would either be grinning like a mad man at me, or looking away as if nothing had happened. If he could whistle, I'm quite sure he would have been whistling a happy tune and staring at the sky as if nothing had just happened. In fact, a few times after a "splat" I would notice him looking down at the floor with me with a look on his face that said "how did that get down there"? So, as you can see, there really was no way to know what was going on with this kid. I just thought he didn't like the mango I had fed him that morning for breakfast. Little did we know what was on the horizon...

The next day (Sunday) sweet little innocent Mia was at her weekly swimming lesson trying her hardest to float on her back and master the doggie paddle when she got out of the pool and told Jeff that she needed to return home immediately due to stomach discomfort. She came home and immediately put herself to work on the couch watching marathon episodes of Scooby Doo and protesting every so often that her belly hurt. We didn't think much of it--no fever, no vomiting. She went to bed after eating some toast for dinner only to wake several times in the night to complain of stomach pain. Early that morning she came to our bed and proceeded to vomit on everything several times. Convinced that she needed to stay home from school, I called in to work and spent the morning happily tending to my little convalescent. Jonah was fine and went to daycare as usual. Jeff went to work. As the morning progressed, however, little Mia's condition seemed to worsen with her moaning in agony and holding her belly. I knew it was serious when she asked me to turn off Scooby Doo. This was definitely something serious...I called Jeff and he consulted with a doctor at his work. They suggested that it could be appendicitis and suggested we take her to be seen immediately. Jeff rushed home from work and we took Mia to the doctor. On the way to the doctor's office, Mia became exceptionally sick in the car--crying out in pain and vomiting profusely (luckily Jeff thought to bring a big bowl). I imagined that we would be carrying her into the doctor's office in our arms while she cried and howled in pain. We would be rushed in to the nearest office where we would be seen immediately by a team of concerned physicians. Not the case. As fate would have it, the 5 times Mia threw up in the car actually made her feel quite a bit better. By the time the doctor came to see us, Mia was hanging upside down like a monkey off the bed and giggling. I'm quite sure the doctor thought we were completely insane for bringing her in at all. But she did a full exam and listened to our tale of woe. She diagnosed Mia with stomach flu (ooops...excuse me, "viral gastroenteritis") and sent us on our way. Jeff went back to work, and I continued caring for Mia who really could do nothing much more than stare at the ceiling and sleep. Poor little thing was so sick.

Unfortunately for us (and for you) that is not the end of this sad tale. That evening, after both kids were tucked away in their beds for the night, I was washing dishes in the kitchen, merrily chatting away to my husband, when I felt the weight of 1000 bricks crashing in around me. It was seriously that sudden. I had been struck. Within a few hours I was vomiting with a force previously unbeknownst to my body. This went on every few hours throughout the night until finally I passed out cold in a sweaty mess on the bathroom floor. When I resumed consciousness I had no idea where I was or what had happened. I guess Jeff had caught me so I luckily didn't break my neck on the tub (as Jeff has reminded me of his life saving heroism). I felt Jeff toweling me down with a wet cloth, but I literally could not move any part of my body. It was as though I was paralyzed. As I lay there for a bit, I remember feeling a bit awe struck by the power of this little virus that had invaded my body, and even more awe struck by my body's resolve to fight back. Wow! What an amazing thing when you actually think about it. There was literally a war going on inside my body. Unfortunately at that moment I was not at all clear who was winning. I was, after all in a heap on the bathroom floor unable to move my arms or legs. But in the end, that seemed to be the final battle and my body was victorious. Don't get me wrong...I have felt like death warmed over since then, but the vomiting has stopped and, I am happy to report that I CAN, once again, move all of my extremities.

Jeff, super hero that he is, has not succumbed to the nasty little bug that got the rest of us. He stayed home from work the next day and tended to Mia and I with the care and compassion of Florence Nightengale! Mia was in her room demanding saltine reinforcements. I was on the couch demanding more blankets and watered down apple juice. My husband did not blink an eye (well, he may have rolled them a few times), he did not complain, and most importantly, he never told me I needed to take a shower or brush my teeth. My hero!!

So, now Mia is back at school, although she still says her belly hurts a bit. She seems fine, however. I think she may just be angling for a way to stay home another day and watch more movies. I, on the other hand, am healing a bit more slowly. I am still quite nauseous and weak, but definitely on the mend. Who would have though that one little baby could inflict such agony and drama in one household? Will I stop letting him put his little fingers in my mouth to be eaten? Will I stop kissing his snotty little face? Will I stop letting him drool all over me? Not on your life!!

One good thing has come out of the whole ordeal, however. All this time at home has given me ample opportunity to work on one of the most important items on my 101 list--watching every episode of The Office. Speaking of the 101, a quick update on my list. As some of you may have noticed, my dear friend Cheryl caught a few indiscrepancies in my list. Apparently I had listed several items twice. Thanks for pointing this out my good woman! I knew that something was off with the list, but I could not locate the duplicates. For that you have earned yourself a place at number 66. Although, I do need to take issue with your comment that I have never called you since we have been back in the states!! Simply untrue!! I have called you several times and asked you to call me back!! That counts as calling you! But you are absolutely correct that our new I Phone does require us to have a calling plan, so I no longer have any excuses for not calling.

In answer to your other questions:

Yes--strippersize class. I am quite excited about this--although slightly intimidated at the same time. Here is a link to our local strippersize studio:

http://www.flexappealstudios.com/flash_intro.html.

I haven't thought about rules for the poem. I guess that children's poems will NOT count (so no Mary had a little lamb)

Good questions Cheryl. I know that you will be watching me closely, so I will be on my best 101 list behavior!

Now, back to my couch...