That Bug Bit Me

I tried real hard to avoid it. I've been one of the lucky ones this cold and flu season. Frederic was sick a couple of times, Lily was sick twice too, and Cyndi had respiratory issues, sinus infections, sore throats, stomach viruses. I've been able to avoid most of it. I got a 24 hour thing in January. Nothing too serious, but I couldn't keep anything in me. My stomach fought a good fight, but ultimately lost that battle.

Last week, I was out of town for the worst part of the family illness. Cyndi and Lily were both down and out. Lily was so bad that she kept waking up in the middle of the night to release anything she was able to get down during the day. I was told that she had no less than 20 vomiting episodes. Yuck.

I was assured that the house was effectively sanitized before I came home.

"We even disinfected the doorknobs on the outside too," Cyndi told me. Aside from living in a bubble, I had to brave the possible germs and live amongst the recovering.

Friday night and Saturday came and went without issue. Sunday was pretty safe too. We went to church, enjoyed a pancake breakfast with our fellow parishioners, ran a few errands, and received a visit from my cousin, his wife, and their two kids. I figured I was safe since spring was right around the corner and nothing was penetrating my invisible healthy shield.

I made a nice beer can chicken on the grill for dinner. Enjoyed 1/2 of a twice baked potato and some grilled broccoli. Ate the last "Carmel Delight" Girl Scout Cookie, got the kids to bed, and settled in for some Sunday night HBO.

Stomach viruses are the worst. They gradually start brewing and then literally need to get out. As the night progressed, I started to feel a little queasiness in the pit of my stomach. I thought I was just being overly sensitive to the illnesses our house experienced, and ignored any further disturbances.

Then, I couldn't take it anymore.

Bye, bye beer can chicken. Adios, twice baked potato. Sayonara broccoli and cookie. I quickly became a seasonal statistic. Luckily, I was able to get to sleep. Sleep is good for illnesses, right? Until they wake you up, ready for more rounds.

I've had the stomach flu before, but this was brutal. I was adamant that I was going to fight the good fight. I knew I had nothing left in my stomach to release and refused to give in. I never felt the sensations this bug offered. I was doubled over on the bathroom floor, swallowing hard, as my entire body became numb, and sweat began dripping off of my forehead.

The numbness was what scared me. Imagine the sensation you feel when the dentist shoots you with Novocaine. The tingling feeling you get in your cheeks and lips. That was what I felt all over my body and especially in my arms.

I was convinced I was going to faint; something I've only done once in my life after a particularly heavy night of drinking. I tried calling out for Cyndi, but I could barely hear myself, there was no way she was hearing me. Somehow, I was able to get myself up from the ground and wake Cyndi up. She's used to 2am disruptions, what with the kids preferring her pampering techniques to mine (read: none). I wasn't really sure what I needed her to do, except to make sure I wasn't going to cross over without a witness.

Moms have a special gift. They can make children feel better just from their presence. Wives are like that too. Cyndi became my savior, of sorts.

She touched my shoulders, offered me a wet rag and a bucket, and helped me calm down. Moments later, the numbness began to slowly fade away. The color in my face returned. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, and successfully avoided anything else coming out from my mouth.
Throughout the day, I've been able to keep simple foods down. Aside from the occasional gurgle and false alarm, no other signs of this virus exist.

That bug bit me, and I'm hoping it's gone until next year. PLEASE!