Welcome to One Busy Momma! The Blog for Busy Moms by one Busy Mom.....

Welcome to my blog. One Busy Momma is my space to rant about my life and the things that happen in it. I have a crazy life - and instead of focusing on the crazy - I like to focus on the funny. Because if I focused on the craziness - well, I'd have been shipped off to an institution long, long ago. And while, I'll admit, there are some days when being institutionalized sounds PRETTY GOOD compared to making ANOTHER diorama at 1am - I'd rather be right where I am - in my messy house with my not so perfect kids making crooked dioramas in the middle of the night.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Destination Dysentery

Ahhh...vacation. A time to unwind, eat irresponsibly and throw back a couple of margaritas. Sleep late, read a good book or two and, if you're lucky, enjoy the company of a few good friends. That was the plan, my peeps, for Busy Momma's July 4th. The whole gang headed to Rehoboth with Sookie and company for our annual July 4th getaway. We've been spending July 4th together for several years now and have always had a really great time. Sookie's husband Bill grew up on the lower shore and his dad invites us to spend a few days with him every July 4th. And we happily oblige!It's usually a magical time - the kids all get along, we all have our OWN bathrooms, the coffee is always hot in the morning and there is always someone willing to watch the wee ones if the grown ups want to get away from it all for a night. It's a pretty great thing we've got going on - I have to be honest. And this year I was REALLY looking forward to this vacation. I've been working too hard, putting in A LOT of hours travelling and I just really needed a break from it all.

It started out beautifully. Almost - too beautifully. There was NO traffic on the way down - as in NO traffic. The night before July 4th heading to the beach. We took this as a sign from the vacation gods. We thought they were saying: "Come, come to the beach ye tired and weary overworked people. Come, let the sun tan you, let the gentle waves massage you, let the tequila numb you..."

Unfortunately, something got lost in translation. That's not what they were saying AT ALL. More on that later.

We all met for dinner at our annual "1st night in Rehoboth" place - Jake's. We had a few laughs, a great meal and threw back a few drinks.We got back to the house, unpacked, settled in and went to bed. The fourth dawned hot and sunny - perfect beach weather. So off we headed to the beach. The kids boogie boarded, Sookie, Bill, PC and I took turns watching them and we all had lunch at our favorite pizza joint - as we do EVERY July 4th. That night we attended a great party that Bill's dad throws every year. Good food, fun friends and lots and lots of booze. We slept late on the 5th, lounged about, drank too much coffee and headed out to the bay for a lazy day of floating on our boards and reading. It was all going so, so well...until it wasn't. As we were talking about packing it up and heading home - Sookie's little girl, Alice, came out of the water and said "My tummy hurts". And that's when the real fun began. We assumed that she might have been dehydrated as it was extremely hot that day, and we had only seen her drink one or two juice boxes. So, we packed everyone up and took them home. Sookie put Alice into a cool bath and I gave her some icy cold gatorade. When Sookie's older daughter, Leena, began getting sick - we wondered if they might have food poisoning. They had shared a sub for lunch. Maybe they had a funky sub? About an hour or two later - Jack got sick and that's when we knew - a STOMACH VIRUS was in our midst.

Now, I won't get into the nitty-gritty details - let it suffice to say that there was more gross stuff flying out of these kids than 4 adults could or should ever be expected to manage. Oh - and I forgot to mention that Sookie's dog is on her last legs, so they brought her along as well...and she suffers from colitis. And decided to demonstrate this as the kids were spewing and ... Need I say more? So - by 1 am on July 6th - I was sleeping in the nursery with the girls. All 3 girls had puke pots in bed with them. Bella wasn't sick - but she was sort of sick because watching everyone else get sick was making her sick. Kinda like in the movie Goonies.... PC was in bed with Jack, Sookie was on the couch in the living room with the pooping dog and Bill was in bed because we had to have 1 adult at the ready the next morning who actually had a few hours of sleep in him.Plus - he wasn't feeling so hot.

Friday morning dawned to 2 new dilemas - first the kids were now running fevers. The throwing up had almost stopped, but now they were incredibly dehydrated and feverish. And, of course, even though we had all brought fever medicine - just in case - it wasn't the "right" medicine. Who would have thought that 3 sick kids could be medicine connoseurs? Oh yes, apparently children's Motrin tastes like "barf" to Jack, while Leena likes it. And no one likes grape flavored medicine...ewww. So, PC spent much of the day hunting around Walgreen's, Giant and CVS to find the proper medicines that all of the children would take. He also got Ginger Ale for the kid who doesn't like Coke, Coke for the kid who doesn't like Ginger Ale, gatorade for everyone and about 453 cans of chicken soup - in every variety and brand known to man. because GOD KNOWS if you're that picky about fever medicine - SURELY you are very choosy about your chicken noodle vs. your chicken and rice. The SECOND dilema was ME! I woke up on Friday morning and could barely walk. Somehow, some way I managed to almost BREAK my left foot on Thursday. Somewhere in the mayhem of packing up puking kids and hightailing it off the beach, I stepped in a hole or something and screwed my foot really well. I had iced it up when we got home - but by Friday morning - my pretty little foot looked like something that belonged on Shrek the Ogre. The toes were so swollen, I could not move them, and I was in tears - seriously. So - off the the local ER I go. And folks - that was an adventure in and of itself. Ever been at a beach ER? I hope not. Sincerely. I walked, or rather, hobbled in and the 97 year-old woman at the reception desk said: "May I help you?" I told her that I needed to be seen because I think I might have broken my foot. She took my information and told me that I've been a patient at the hospital already - in 1997. Now, I know that I drank A LOT in '97..but not THAT much. I assured her that I had never, ever visited the hospital before - and asked if I might have an ice pack and a wheel chair. Well, apparently, that was just way too much to ask of Mabel-Mae because she just started shaking her head and told me that she was having "a really bad day".  To which I somewhat snarkily replied: "Really? How 'bout that? Me too! How is that wheel chair coming along? " She proceeded to print out my wrist band, attach it to me and confide in me that she had actually had a pretty bad year. And I felt for her - I really did. But I still had no wheel chair or a god -damned ice pack and my human kindness only extends so far.

Once I made it through triage and had both an ice pack and a wheel chair - things were looking up. Until they called me back and I met Ronnie - the Wonder PA. Now, to be fair, the ER was crazy busy and Ronnie was only 1 man. Actually, I really could qualify him as a boy - a boy-man let's say. Ronnie walked in and said: "Hey, what's going on?" but not in a comforting way - kind of like in a stoned, Dazed and Confused way. NOT a good sign. So, I explained what had happened and told him that I really thought I broke a bone or two in my foot. He asked me to show him "where it hurts" and I did and was VERY CLEAR about the fact that it REALLY hurt if you touched it. So Ronnie proceeded to take his overgrown, HAIRY hands and use his monster-sized fingers to squeeze the hurty spot to the point that I SCREAMED and pulled my foot back so fast that I kicked him in the chin.

Now let me explain something. I don't scream. I gave birth 3 times. The first time the baby was backwards and BROKE MY TAILBONE on her way out - while my epidural was turned OFF. No screaming. Cursing - yes. but NO SCREAMING. Ronnie the Wonder PA elicited a scream that was so primal, I was quite mortifed. And after the scream was finished he literally said: "OK so that's where it hurts."


So, after he read the XRay, Ronnie sauntered in and said - and I quote: "Well, it AIN'T broke. And the radiologist looked at it and he DON'T think it's broke NEITHER." It was at this point that I asked to see Ronnie's hospital ID badge because SURELY, SURELY this was some kind of sick joke. This guy must be the janitor or an escaped mental patient pretending to be a PA - right? A trained professional PA certainly wouldn't speak that way - would he?

Why yes, Momma, yes he would.

So, Ronnie diagnosed me with either: tendoinitis, a severe sprain, a severe strain or a "real bad bruise". But also it could be a stress fracture - he just didn't really know. He gave me a pair of crutches, anti-inflamatories and pain meds and sent me on my way. When I got home, Jack was STILL puking into a bowl, but Sookie's girls looked much better and Bella was still A-OK. I slept with Jack that night, PC slept on the couch, Sookie and Bill stayed in their room. As I drifted off into a drug-induced sleep, I thought that we had surely hit rock bottom and things would be looking up in the morning.

Then, Sookie fell. The virus took hold around 3am and that poor girl was sicker than sick. By the time we woke up, she was covered in 12 layers of blankets and buried in her bed. She was so feverish, she was shivering and her teeth were chattering. That's when I knew we were goners - every last one of us would fall to this deadly bug. It was only a matter of time. We had all sat around marinating in these awful germs and they were sitting inside of Bella, PC, Bill and I just waiting to ravage us.

And they didn't disappoint. Bella started getting sick on Sunday - as we were driving home. By the time we arrived home - I was so sick I had to go directly to bed. PC and Bella spent the night in the ER as she was so sick and I spent the night on the bathroom floor - praying for death. Monday afternoon found me in a real doctor's office where the lovely, professional PA told me that she would be treating my poor little piggy as a stress fracture and put me into a beautiful post surgical boot so that I can wean myself off of the crutches and support and protect my foot as it heals. We lost PC to the virus on Monday afternoon. He went down hard and fast. 

So - now it's Thursday night - exactly 1 week since the first one of us fell. And I am happy to report that everyone is on the mend. PC and I are still not 100% , but we're getting there. Bella is still getting headaches and isn't her usual perky self - but she's bouncing back. She's working on bedazzling my boot as I type. You'd never know Jack was sick. Sookie is better, her girls are fine and Bill never really got horribly sick.

So - here's the weird thing. Are you ready? I STILL had a fun time on our vacation. Was it what we had planned? Nope. Would we want to EVER revisit it again - negative. However, I will say this - I think we LAUGHED more on this vacation than on any other. We were SO bored sitting around that we came up with ridiculous names for the vacation - like The Rehoboth Retch, the Throw-up Throwdown, IndaPUKENS Day and The Sandy Spew. We had a Facebook "name this vacation" contest and people contributed hilarious names. Then we had an "It could have been worse" contest on the way home - as Bella barfed in the back seat. In between barfs - she was even playing along. The kids were so kind and gentle with one another. They took care of each other and really made us proud. This Worst-Case Scenario vacation brought out the BEST in us. And while I wouldn't want to experience this one again - I will say that it certainly COULD HAVE been worse. And I, for one, am looking forward to laughing about all of this NEXT July 4th!

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