Last Wednesday evening, my daughter came home from school with a bit of a cold. By nightfall she had a fever and spent all day Thursday cuddled up on the couch under a blanket.
Thursday night my 19-month old son started throwing up. At night. ALL night. He would cry in his crib as he felt it coming on, I’d rush in, pick him up, run to the bathroom to get him to throw up into the sink – while most of it landed on my shoulder, arm, hair or shirt.
Friday became the day when the ‘puke bucket’ became necessary, as my daughter was finding it hard to make it to the washroom on time.
Saturday was my birthday. The Big 3-0.
Kids were still sick, but thankfully I still had my health. Or so I thought.
By 4 pm I was struck down – I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks. I was sick to my stomach, I couldn’t even eat my beautiful birthday cake – all I wanted to do was lie down in bed and ignore the world. However the washroom was calling my name – as was my family (what’s for dinner? can you do laundry? i bought champagne, aren’t you going to drink it?).
I dragged myself around trying to do little necessary tasks and went to bed at 8 pm.
I was up all night regardless visiting the bathroom repeatedly.
Sunday was a little better, but I still felt like shit. My body ached! I was exhausted.
The only thing I ate on Sunday was a slice of birthday cake.
The kids were starting to feel better.
Monday I felt a bit more alive but still sucky. Kids stayed home from school AGAIN.
Tuesday, today. I feel more alive than I had been in days.
I can actually stomach looking at a computer screen again. My daughter went back to school, my son is napping, the house is a mess and I have a ton of laundry to do.
I feel like I’ve been sick for 2 weeks, not just a couple of days!
Norovirus, you suck.