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The Therapy Sessions
Monday, April 05, 2004
 

Another day sick?


I've spent the day at home sick again today.

This isn't like me: I've taken five sick days this year (and that is probably more than I took ALL of last year).

On two of those days, I wasn't even sick (my kids were). On one day, it was my car that was sick (bad starter).

Today, my stomach is killing me, like I need to vomit.

One of the shitty things about being me: I have a strong stomach. My body just won't vomit and get it over with.

It drags out the fight for 12-24 hours, until finally giving in to the inevitable ralphing. It means the day is spent awaiting a death sentence.

I hate throwing up. I could never handle pregnancy.

Cute things happen, though, even when I'm sick. My older son, Sean, is obsessed with sickness nowadays. Upon learning that I was feeling unwell, he began asking questions:

"Are you going to puke?" He asks. He loves the word "puke."
"Not yet," I answer.
"We puke in the toilet, Daddy," he says, wagging a finger at me and looking stern.
Thank you, Sean.
A minute later.
"Open your mouth," he says.
Sean now has my flashlight.
"I wanna see your thrope."
Too tired to correct his pronunciation, I just open my mouth.
Sean tells Mommy that I have holes in my teeth.
Later, he gets a blanket and wraps it around me, and tells me to get rest and stay warm.
A real Kodak moment (can you have Kodak moments in a digital age?).


And like that, Betsy, Sean and Tim are off to daycare and work. Titus the dog lays down next to me and goes off to sleep (after his exhausting morning).

The house is quiet as my stomach is fighting its guts out.

Literally.


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