I don't know if it's just us, but we have spent this seemingly never-ending winter in an almost perpetual stomach virus merry-go-round. Lest the term "merry-go-round" give you a pleasant picture in your mind, I have put together a brief blog about the 9 stages my husband and I go through at the first whiff of stomach virus.
Denial
- “This can’t be happening right here (in a restaurant, in the chiropractor’s office, at Jiffy Lube, in Walmart)... right now... to us... for the fourth time this winter.”
- "He was probably just overexcited. You know how he gets."
- "Grandma probably just gave her too much junk food. You know Grandma."
- "I bet I’m just carsick. You know how I get."
Anger
- “On my day off? Seriously??” or “I have to leave work AGAIN? Seriously??”
- “In my purse? Seriously??”
- “Why are you holding your hand in front of your mouth? You’re shooting vomit everywhere! “
- “Stop! That’s my pillow!”
- “Why didn’t you lift the toilet lid before you threw up?!”
- "How did she get this inside her shoes!?"
- "This is on the inside bill of his cap... that he was wearing while he was puking. What is this new vertical vomit?!?"
Bargaining
- "Maybe it’s just a little kid 'bug'."
- “Please, God, spare us this hideous plague!”
- "Babe, it's your turn. I got the last one."
- "If you clean up this one, I'll clean your car - inside and out... every week... for life."
Fear
Who’s next? This is the stage when I start asking the kids which one of them had contact with the sick person in question and to what degree. Then I start a mental reckoning of which one will go down first. This is also the stage when these thoughts plague my mind:
- "I finished the rest of her oatmeal this morning!!"
- "I shared a drink with him last night!"
- "You kissed me this morning! Why would you do something so selfish?"
- "They were over here yesterday with their germy kids!"
- "Her kids were at swim lessons with mine yesterday!"
- "Oh, no. We all just ate spaghetti pizza!!!
This is also the same stage when the kids who aren’t sick say, “What’s for dinner mom," and my only response is, “What would you most like to throw up?” And we officially start a bread, water, applesauce, banana diet that lasts until the 24 hours after the last vomit episode.
Guilt
- “Why am I grouching at a vomiting child?! I am a hideous human being.”
- “Why am I only worried about myself when I’m not even the one vomiting? I am a despicable specimen of humanity.”
- “What could I have done to prevent this? I should have washed my hands more. I should have made the kids wash their hands more.”
- “I just took my kids to grandma’s house yesterday. Now it’s going to be my fault when they get sick too.”
Excessive Disinfecting
This usually starts with the bathroom cleaning. I start cleaning every crack and crevice in the bathroom in preparation for spending a lot of time in there. The floors have to be clean enough to eat off of (or sleep on). The toilets have to be cleaned and bleached and scrubbed and scrubbed again. Then I lay down clean towels anywhere the kids might be... on carpet, on couches, in their beds. I set out bowls and cans of Lysol. I wash my hands after I touch anything that might have touched them in the last 3 days. This process continues throughout the last two stages of vomiting grief.
Depression/Completely Irrational Self-Pity
- “Will this ever end? There are seven people in this house!”
- “Why did I think a big family was a good idea again?”
- “The newspaper said there was a new Norovirus from Australia. How can they know that?! Dumb Australians anyway.” (Like I said - completely irrational.)
Acceptance
This is when I start to cancel anything happening in my life for the next week and texting anyone we were with in the last 48 hours that they are dooooomed.
Premature Socialization
This is when I know that the kids are just a day or two out of the woods but none of us can stand being in the house together anymore with that smell that is stuck in our noses. So we go out - maybe just to the grocery store or to the park, but, “Ahhhh...” it's the next best thing to Florida on Spring Break.
