Well, this day was due to arrive sooner rather than later. I thought it might wait until we were in the germ infested school before we got a stomach bug, but as it turns out, the pediatric doctors office will do just fine! Christopher will be starting school in a few short weeks and we needed to get him established with the doctor before hand. It didn’t seem like it was going to be that big of a deal.

Upon surveying the the landscape after arriving to the doc’s office, it looked like a field hospital for war weary children. The place looked like the plague had descended on everyone there. There wasn’t a seat to sit on in the waiting room, it was so busy in there. Christopher spotted all of the toys to play with in the midst of all of the sick children and took right to them. I just looked at Beth and she knew exactly what I was thinking. If we weren’t already sick, we certainly will be picking something up by the time the visit was over. To say Christopher was marinating in the surrounding illnesses is an understatement, he was having a ball. He’d play with these bead track type games and then wipe his nose with his bare hands. It was too late, the damage was already done so I decided to just let him enjoy his time in the waiting room without spoiling the fun.

The doc’s visit was pretty uneventful for the most part. While talking to the doc she spotted two boosters that needed to be finished up, Hep A and the Chicken pox vaccines. Beth and I were torn about what we should do. The doc stepped out to get the vaccines. Do we prep him? Or do we just brace for impact? We didn’t know how he would react. I remember being 8 and shots terrified me, so I had a feeling he wasn’t going to handle it all that well.

True enough, the second he saw those shots, panic started to set in. Christopher’s fear response is to start to sweat. His glasses started to fog up instantly. Doc asked for him to look at daddy, and I did my best to distract him. I tried to use the trick that worked on me for years at the dentist. I told him that they were pinchers and all he had to do was just not watch. My dentist always told me I’d feel a “pinch” during injections and I swore they weren’t shots as a kid, and the dentist used special pinchers to numb me up. Well, unfortunately, Christopher wasn’t having it. Doc was quick, she knew she had to just get it over with. Just as the freak out and panic was really about to set in she was done. Shoo! We made it! Unfortunately we’ll be back for a TB skin test (PPD), even though he had chest xray already. We’re still debating if we should tell him, I think it’s best that we go in blind.

All in all, the doc visit was really good and we were super happy with the Doc and the staff. We did a little running around before heading home. The night was pretty uneventful except for the fact that the new glasses are giving him headaches. I’ve read that it’s not uncommon, most especially because he hasn’t been wearing glasses for at least a month and his prescription is strong. By that I mean he’s blind as a bat. I have no idea how he wasn’t asking for glasses up to this point. Either way, it’s been a bit of a battle to keep the glasses on him because of the headaches, which I get. It was still pretty cute to hear him say “Hey! I can see far!”.

After getting home from the doc’s I had the sudden realization that he’s going to be sick at some point, and that means we’d have to have a puke bucket. I had a moment where I thought, “oh no…” it’s not going to be good. I told Beth “look, I can’t do puke.” She just responded with “oh it’s going to be different” and “don’t worry, you’ll be ok.” No, I thought, you don’t understand, but hopefully that day was a ways off and I was just psyching myself up for no reason.

Well, we woke up the next morning and he only ate two eggs for breakfast and just was feeling lousy. We initially thought that it was just due to the headaches from the glasses so we got him some Tylenol and tried to quash that. Daddy woke up not feeling super well either, but I didn’t feel like I was coming down with stomach bug, just felt I picked up some of the germs myself and my body felt a minor fever was in order.

By the time noon had come around he had no appetite and we were on the couch at this point. I still didn’t know what was coming but Beth started to get the inkling that we had a storm on the horizon. She went and grabbed a bucket and had it on hand. It was probably 30 minutes later and the show was underway. No problem so far since Beth is the captain of the puke ship, and I’m a very distant passive spectator.

We received some intel that the chickenpox vaccine was known to get some of his cousins sick, so we didn’t know if it was a case of a well marinated Christopher at the doctor’s office, or if it was the chickenpox booster. At that point it didn’t matter.

Beth started to feel unwell last, thankfully she was the best off of all of us, and her illness seemed to be evacuating in the correct direction. My stomach was uneasy but ok, but my fever was picking up, and so was Christopher’s. Thankfully Christopher did have some of his milkshake for lunch so there was something in his system to evacuate. We had a couple of rounds of bucket usage without any issues.

Then, it happened. Beth said she had to go to the bathroom and ran upstairs. We had a movie going and I thought we would make it. Suddenly a new round of eruptions happened. Christopher picked up the bucket and and I rushed over to him. My body was shaking as I held the bucket as he wretched into it over and over again. I had built a couple new crucifixes to put over the entryways of the house, and as my eyes affixed on the crucifix, I can say with the utmost confidence that, I have never said as many Hail Mary’s as fast as I was saying them while I tried to retain some composure.

These next two paragraphs will be graphic, feel free to skip them:

I may have been humming, I’m not sure, because I’m pretty sure my memory has a built in erase feature for puking memories. My triggers are three fold: If I see it, I’m done. If I smell it, I’m done. If I hear it, I might be ok, so long as one of those other two sense don’t pile on. Well, as I affixed my eyes on the cross over the doorway I was determined not to look. The battle was with hearing it and smelling it. I was hanging on for dear life with hearing it. Then I caught a whiff. Unfortunately there were two people and one bucket. I dry heaved. Oh no, hang on, he needs the bucket. He was wrapping up on his end and then I got a really strong smell and I couldn’t do it any more. I yanked the bucket out from under him and let loose. I’m a violent puker. I hate it with every thread of my being, and prior to yesterday, I couldn’t tell you the last time I vomited.

We’re both standing in the living room, and between my heaves, I tell Christopher to follow me to the bathroom. I knew that if he was still sick he would need something to puke in because the bucket was firmly in my possession and my volume was guaranteed to be much greater than his. He looked at me like I was insane. Beth was stuck on the toilet and we were on our own. It was the right call because when we got there he heaved a couple more times in the sink. I tried hard to get my composure, but my own vomiting is a trigger for me to keep vomiting. I didn’t think to abandon the bucket for the toilet, which would have ended it. Instead I just kept puking in the bucket and dumping in. I attempted to rinse it at one point but that really triggered me and I started all over again. I finally got the bucket rinsed and composed myself long enough to put an end to it.

Beth made it back down in the middle of the bathroom heaving and tended to Christopher. I was a lost cause. Once he was situated she went and got me clothes and I got in the shower. Sweet sanctuary and relief. I made it. My guts hurt and my throat was on fire, but it was finally over. Beth finally came back to check on me and all I could say was “I tried to warn you”. She laughed and just said that she couldn’t have imagined it being that bad. She was the elementary school vet that’s seen it all, so this was nothing for her. She laughed and recounted that she was on the toilet, and while she was stuck on the toilet and felt awful, she couldn’t help but see the comedy in it all. As I’m writing this I can’t help but laugh. Beth will confirm that while I was writing this, I had to ask Christopher for details, because like I said, my brain erases most of the details.