The stomach bug is no stranger to our lovely household. We seemed to be unusually gifted in acquiring it and having embarrassing episodes involving it.
I am absolutely, totally, and irrationally afraid of all things barfy. I get panicky and hot and nervous and anxious and I freeze up and on and on... I even start to think I am going to get sick.
There has to be a name for this condition.
Oh, wait! I just googled it and there is a name! Does that mean I can get some meds to cope? :) Because I could use some right about now.
Anyways, I suck as a caretaker, family member, spouse, mom, and fellow human for those who are ill, especially if they have stomach issues.
In light of this and Fess Up Friday, I will recall a few of my many, many times I suck at being a fellow human. You can laugh at my ridiculousness; I definitely do. And, yes, you should pity those who were sick and needed my help.
1. When I was 13, my grandmother came and stayed with us a lot. She was very sick with Lupus. We were near a hospital with many specialists in the field of auto-immune disorders. My mom had taken her to one of the specialists and gotten her some new pain medicine.
My mom took my grandmother home and then had to drive an hour away to attend a grad school class she was taking.
Long story short, my grandmother had a HORRIBLE reaction to the medicine, there was a horrible thunderstorm, no cell phones (before there were cell phones), and no one but me and my very sick grandmother home. I threw her a bucket and a roll of paper towels (after massive begging on her part) and hid in my bedroom closet. And cried. For hours.
2. My friend, Adrienne, spent the night at my house when we were in about 5th grade. The next morning, we went to Burger King on the way to my soccer practice. She threw up in our car and I pretty much plastered myself against the window on the other side of the car. I didn't invite her over for many months after that. Not because she wasn't a good friend and not because I didn't enjoy hanging out with her, but because of my irrational fear of all things barf.
3. My precious college roommate, Katie, got very sick our freshman year of college. To make a long story short, I hid from her for a few days, which is kind of a hard thing to do since we shared a small room. Poor thing. I think I may have even spent the night (or two) in another friend's, Amy, room to further avoid the barf.
4. The first time Hubs got sick once we were married, after freezing and pretending I was asleep in our bed, I relocated to the couch downstairs and had little to no compassion for him. He wanted assistance. I gave him none. Not because I didnt adore him, but again, because of this insane fear.
5. It doesn't even matter if it is me that is sick. I cannot cope. When I was pregnant with Lil Miss, I was (briefly) hospitalized for excessive/extreme morning sickness. I wanted to momentarily exit my physical body, not particularly because of the misery of not feeling well, but mainly because I could not handle the actual barf part.
Bottom line? If you are sick, I love you. But, PLEASE, do not call on me for help.
It's better that way. For all involved.
Be sure to check out Kira's blog. I think she may be taking a Fessing Up break, but there is still good stuff on there!
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