Get Behind Me, Vomit

Right now, in my eyes, vomit is the devil. Vinny threw up not once, but twice yesterday. Christmas Day.

The second holiday episode of fluid coming out the wrong end, unfortunately, was right after his 5 p.m. dose of FlaJill.

"Do you see the pill?" asks Hubby, as I swirl the bucket of barf around, like I'm panning for gold.

"I do!" I say, reaching in and scooping it out deftly.

I dash to the sink carefully rinsing off the yellow stomach juices, gently placing the FlaJill in a Ziploc baggy for safe keeping, afterwards.

"We need to go home," I say. "We have to get this medicine in him and it's not working here."

Our Christmas Day celebration was cut short. Vinny spent most of the day in a recliner, sick to his stomach, celebrating nothing. If only I had remembered to bring the loaf of Beckman's Sourdough Bread, it was the one thing he'd been keeping down all this time.

But I didn't. So away we drove in the car. With Vinny in the backseat, and The Bucket situated strategically between his legs. We made it home, without incident, and by without incident I mean no vomit.

Shortly after arriving home, I fed him some sourdough toast sprinkled lightly with Cinnamon and brown sugar. Next, I successfully dosed him with the rescued FlaJill. But we still had two more doses of antibiotics to get through, and my hairs were standing on end.

Fortunately, both doses went well. But I'm left feeling like I've been kicked in the stomach, and sucker punched in the kidneys. Vomit why you gotta be so mean?




Each vomitous setback, is like a pin pricking my balloon filled with faith and hope. Faith - that the doctors are right about this drain business clearing the abscess. Hope - that my son is really getting better.

I keep telling myself, "he's getting better, it's just the medicine making him sick. He has no pain. He has no fever. And that's a good thing."

But the problem is, I'm not that convincing. And I'm sleep deprived. Tonight I'm going to take a Benadryl just to see if I can get more than four hours of sleep.

Until then, I will be counting down the days to Wednesday December 29th.

"We are almost there," I say to Vinny. "I'm so proud of you for hanging in there."

"I just want to be better," replies Vinny. "Appendicitis has given me a lot of trouble."