When I first embarked on this blogging journey, my intention was to share the unique stories of my kids, their quirks, and their incredible individuality. I pledged to keep this blog updated every other day, if not every day. Life, however, has a way of throwing curveballs our way, and the demands of reality often take precedence.
Let me set the scene. It all began with a mild sore throat. It was nothing major, just a slight discomfort, but by Friday, I found myself yearning for nothing more than sleep. My wife had been battling her own health issues, and by Saturday, it felt like a colossal anvil had fallen on us. Our household was in disarray, routines were abandoned, and the kids relished the freedom to do as they pleased.
But that was just the beginning. No, the 10-ton anvil was not the end; it was merely the prologue to the unfolding story. Our eldest, who happens to be nonverbal, has a rather unique way of signaling that he’s unwell. He doesn’t complain or make a fuss. Instead, he remains in bed, and when the inevitable happens, he calmly vomits, leaving us with the task of cleaning up and changing everything.
Most kids, when they’re sick, make their discomfort known in no uncertain terms. They’ll let you know if they have the flu or if they’re experiencing discomfort. David, however, handles it differently. Vomiting for him is a silent affair, void of complaints or inconvenience. The catch is that he’s never quite figured out how to aim for a bowl, toilet, tub, or any other container when it happens. So, picture a scenario where both parents are unwell, and the youngest son walks in at 1 AM to deliver the news, “David puked.” It leads to a groggy rock-paper-scissors match to determine who will tend to him. Both parents eventually convince each other to handle the situation: changing sheets, replacing the pillow and blanket, and cleaning him up. It was the first of many times that night. Remarkably, David does understand when something isn’t right, and he’s exceptionally cooperative during these moments. He doesn’t cry, make a fuss, or obstruct the process; he merely wants to return to bed and for the sickness to dissipate. So instead of starting laundry in the morning, we began a load at 3:30 AM, all the while praying that the vomiting wouldn’t continue.
As Sunday dawned, my wife was on her feet, giving the kids whatever they fancied for breakfast. I, on the other hand, stayed in bed. David continued to sleep, which was a blessing, and the day passed with everyone slowly recovering. Monday arrived, and since it was fall break, no one had to go to school. It was a day of reprieve, offering a glimmer of hope for better health.
I’ve often advised people to be cautious of their words, for the universe listens. It seems I should heed my own advice. On Monday, my stomach began to ache, and I found myself vomiting six times throughout the night. I estimate that I lost around 15 pounds in water weight. I couldn’t keep anything down, my body ached, I couldn’t sleep, and even sitting up proved dizzying. It was a challenging night, to say the least.
A visit to the doctor on Tuesday ruled out COVID-19 or the flu; it turned out to be a viral infection in my stomach. Not the most exciting news, but it was a relief to know the cause. That night, I slept more soundly than I had in a long time. Today, I’m on the mend, managing to keep food down and regain my strength.
As for my kids, they’ve all improved as well, except for our daughter, whose condition remains uncertain. It’s a tough call with her, as it’s often hard to tell if her ailments are genuine or a ploy to soak up attention.
In all this chaos and sickness, there’s a silver lining. I must extend my gratitude to my kids. They didn’t grumble about the disruption of their routines or the absence of quality time. They faced the upheaval with resilience, and for that, I’m immensely proud. Life’s unpredictability may throw us for a loop, but it’s also a testament to the strength of family bonds.