Something was amiss

Thanks to everyone for all the great advice! Here's a great link I wanted to share with you.


I knew something was wrong the minute I woke up. Coffee was brewing in the kitchen, and it was the most vile offensive odor I had ever smelled. The mere thought of drinking some sent my stomach into a tailspin, as if I had been on one too many carnival rides.

Robert had thrown up a couple of days earlier, but I chalked it up as being part of the ear infection. Now, one by one, my family and I dropped like flies, victim to a stomach virus. As I waved good-bye to my upchucked toenails in the toilet, I heard Seth screaming from his bedroom, "Oh my gosh, I'm dying!" He gets his dramatic flair from me. When I have the stomach bug, I'm reduced to a quivering eight year-old wanting her mommy.
Anything else, my anemia, flu, cold, broken bones, I'm fine with; but hit me with a virus, and I'm reduced to rubble.

All day yesterday, I racked my brains, trying to figure out where we got this bug. No one at work or school had been ill, and I hadn't gone anywhere; all arrows pointed to the ER. The emergency room, a hotbed of transferable illness and discomfort; but as my records shows, clearly a "must visit" for my family and I.

When Robert and I were there a few days ago, a triage nurse, who looked as if she'd been sucking lemons, gave us a pager. "They'll page you when it's your turn to go back." she said. I hesitantly took the pager from her. Wonder who's had their mitts on this? I had thought.

My family used to poke fun at me because I took a small can of lysol with me where ever I went. I wish I would have had it that day. The pager would have gotten such a spritzing.

Today the count stands 2 and 2. Robert and I recovered, but very genorously passed the bug on to John and Seth. Robert is watching Indy car racing in the living room, while I'm tuning into Carrie. Lots of blood and gore and a recovering stomach; what a combo, huh?