The joys of being sick with a toddler

I’ve been sick a few days, this is a fairly graphic post so feel free to skip it – I’m pretty sure Maggie gave me a stomach bug as I was throwing up Infuse (Gatorade) (and nothing else,) like a madman on Monday and have spent the following three days ever in sight of a bathroom.

Monday was fun, I start throwing up, Maggie gets extremely concerned, I went to grab Kim to take care of her and resume my vomiting. About a minute in, the toilet’s covered with Aldi’s red gatorade-like drink Infuse and my toddler bursts through the closed door and is wondering what’s up as it looks like her daddy’s vomiting blood. I had to assure her between gasps that everything was fine.

I don’t really recall much of that night except that I sat with Maggie for a bit and told her I probably wasn’t dying and she seemed fine. Although I was feeling miserable, I felt better now that I’d vomited.

Baby woke up early on Tuesday and I went down and started our normal routine of changing her and getting her ready when my bowels and stomach betrayed me. I sat her gently down and ran to the bathroom with a now-crying toddler following me to what felt like Harry’s toilet scene from Dumb & Dumber.

Very hard to explain to a toddler who’s convinced she’s done something wrong or that you’re dying to give you a little space on the toilet. What ensued was my hugging my baby while pretty much destroying the toilet. I had to make an emergency trip upstairs to change some clothing again, this also lead to toddler meltdown.

I don’t remember much of Tuesday other than that it happened.

Wednesday I thought I was getting better. I did a few things, I worked for a bit, I evidently went to sleep at home and woke up with two tenant’s air conditioners out.

Everything in my stomach region feels like I’ve been being repeatedly beaten with a sackful of molten kittens, so Maggie felt the need to kick me in the stomach repeatedly during a class on Wednesday and then jump up and down on my back while I was on the floor.

Thought last night was the last night being sick, ate some, tried to sleep and couldn’t, and most of my morning with Maggie was four trips to the bathroom. I’m now smelly dad.

I never expected in my life that I would have to tell another human being that although I loved them I really didn’t want to hug them while my bowels were busy squirting out stomach bile.