Last night my daughter came downstairs crying, saying she’d just thrown up. As my husband and I helped her get our of her clothes and into clean ones she told us about how she tried to get to the toilet but she didn’t get it all in. I have to say, at this point in the story I was fairly hopeful upstairs wasn’t that bad.
I was dead wrong. She had vomited in the bed (reddish something with red chunks), had vomited across the room into the bathroom to the toiled, had vomited more across the room towards the door and then finished by vomiting down the hall before she got to the stairs.
We cleaned up what we could chunk-wise and with some liberal use of water. Stripped and changed the bed and planned to use the carpet cleaner in the morning. My daughter, a fair novice at vomiting figured out how to use the trash can beside the bed with all speed. She would through up about once every half hour and one time got it on the bed again, necessitating another laundry load.
In the morning she came downstairs and curled into a ball with a blanked over her on our bedroom floor. She stayed there until late afternoon, hardly wanting to move. No fever or other symptoms so we don’t think it’s the flu going around. Hopefully she’ll be able to sleep tonight and she’s over the worst of it.
The Big Boy Update: My son was in the car going to school this morning, knowing his sister was at home sick. He said to me, “I’m worried about her.” He is a very sensitive little guy.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: With my daughter nauseated today, I suggested saltines and ginger ale. What did she want instead? Carrots and orange juice. Nothing helped really until she got over the worst of the symptoms.
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