Barf bowls and Other Comforts

This week has been quite long for my 6 year old.  He came home from school on Monday with a fever and sore throat.  Within 2 hours (after a negative strep test) his sore throat progressed into one very upset tummy.  Bring out the barf bowl!  Fill it up, take it to the toilet bowl.  Time and time again.  In the middle of the night we were travelling to the toilet bowl for other outpourings.  Isn't that a nice description?  The poor guy had some horrible virus that had come to stay.  Wednesday we had to have IV fluids in order to re-hydrate him.  Thursday he continued to have no appetite until evening.  Finally, he was willing to eat some warm spaghetti with a dab of butter.  He had 3 bowls!!  plus a pedialyte popsicle and lots of gatorade.  I think he is on the road to recovery.

I was really quite proud of myself this time.  I don't do well with throw-up.  In fact, just hearing the word will send my adrenaline on a swift course through my body.  I get sweaty palms and worry, worry, worry about whether or not it will hit the family.  BUT this time, I calmly took care of the poor fella.  You see MH wasn't home and he is usually the caretaker when t.u. comes to visit.  He will clean it up, kiss the kid, and do whatever else is needed.  I am, on the other hand, usually freaking out and having IBS symptoms.  Nerves, really.  You see, I think it is somewhat of a phobia stemming back a few years...

my sister puked on me when I was about 8.  We were sleeping (at least I was) when all of a sudden, well, you can imagine, I am sure.  I have been scarred since then, it is most certainly a throw-up phobia.

I really do run if I hear it or see it - and believe me - if it happens even remotely close to me - I will see it.  Then I think about it for the entire rest of the day.  I am just sure that I will catch it or that someone I am with will catch it.  This is absolutely unreasonable, I realize, but reason doesn't go with t.u.

I am thankful that God matched me up with a man who never barfs.  Yep, it's true... in the 18-1/2 years I have known him, he has only upchucked once.  The night before he had a bit of bad crawfish and it sent him over (to) the edge of the bowl.  I haven't eaten crawfish since!