Vacations and Sickies

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The Thinker (picture provided by store.metmuseum.org)

Warning: this post may contain disgusting details most would consider too much information also known as TMI.

Now that you’ve all been warned I feel no remorse for what may follow.

I went on a fabulous trip down south with my son this last weekend to see a very old friend of mine and, if I do say so myself, he had a wonderful time. Minus the three hour drive back home turning into six hours, but even that wasn’t so bad. After all, we did get to see a full grown dog ride on the back of a motorcycle going 60 miles per hour. How many of yall can say you saw that? Ok, sure, I can’t prove it because I don’t play with my phone while I drive but just because I love you guys doesn’t mean I was willing to put DC’s life as well as my own at risk. (Ok, so I TRIED to get a picture. “Pictures or it never happened,” right? But, again, I emphasize, life over proof. If I died we would still be where we are now minus fabulous me.)

So after making a million and one stops on the way home, seeing a motorcycle riding dog, and seeing drag-queen prostitute negotiate his/her going rate, you’d think, “There’s no way to top THAT weekend!”

OH but there is. There is, reader, and let me tell you it isn’t pleasant.

We returned on Sunday evening so I could get motivated to go back to my regularly scheduled program and start preparing myself for upcoming finals. As I began packing my tools Monday morning, I found that I was feeling sluggish. At first I simply chucked it up to being lazy, desperate for my vacation to continue. I took what was meant to be a short nap with the boy in hopes of feeling better afterwards. My one hour nap turned into four hours and when I woke I felt even worse than I started.

So I played hookie. Or so I thought…

Three AM rolled around and it really hit me then. For the next three and a half hours I spent my time in and out of the bathroom with THE WORST stomach ache EVER! Not to mention I had to care for DC because, well why should anything be done the easy way for mommy. So it was feed, potty, feed, potty, and so on. For the next 24 plus hours I found myself much like The Thinker only with a piece of technology in my free hand entertaining me while I….um….you know. Meanwhile, my son lays in the other room crying because I interrupted his meal yet again.

I wasn’t going to be doing all that WHILE feeding him. It was a mess. Would YOU want to eat under those conditions? I didn’t think so.

DC was scheduled a doctor’s appointment amidst the chaos (great timing mom! Luckily no disasters occurred on my end) and I decided to ask his doctor if there were any medications I could take that would be safe while breastfeeding. “We typically would not advice the mother to take anything we wouldn’t give the child.” Translation: “you must forever suffer this agonizing pain!!” But yet they have no problem feeding you a slew of narcotics after childbirth. Nursing or not. Percocets and morphine just to name a few.

Day three of hell rolled around and I was well enough to drag myself to my own doctor who prescribed a safe medication to take until the symptoms subside. I am feeling much better now however I feel like it has thoroughly confused my body. With what it has been doing the last few days it is entirely too dangerous to try to pass gas (contrary to popular belief women do fart and poo, ladies and gentlemen.) So I have to run to the toilet in case of this turning into a disaster as well. But the medication is working all too well. I rush to, what is now my favorite seat in the house, just to be told it is another false alarm. So all day today nothing more has passed through (and I mean nothing AT ALL) and I can finally eat again (thank god!) Except I have this constant feeling that I have to go.

Q: Is it a poo or a fart?
A: Probably neither.

And as a result from the last three days I now have a bruise from my toilet seat. I think we may have been a bit too hasty in changing the seat from cushion to porcelain. A change that occurred while I was out of town. I have the worst timing ever.

P.S. it was food poisoning. Not yet 100% sure where from though. But much of our fridge got dumped into the garbage earlier this evening.

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