Recovery

Last week, the stomach bug hit the Talbert house...hard. I started getting sick on Monday afternoon and spent the evening throwing up. Ben thankfully took over the boys as soon as he got home and got them to bed just before he started getting queasy.

We were concerned about dehydration since I'm pregnant and the after-hours nurse urged us to go to the ER for fluids if I didn't stop throwing up soon after taking the Zofran she prescribed me. Rather than running across town to the 24-hour CVS, we borrowed some Zofran from my neighbor. After 3 hours, it finally kicked in and I was able to keep water down.

Just as Ben was coming back home with the meds, we hear Jackson throwing up in his bed. So Ben helps him to the bathroom, and in turn, starts throwing up too...in the sink. And as crazy as it sounds, J actually was comforted by the fact that Daddy was sick too, and his terror of being sick vanished. Ben pretty much had to handle sick J because I was incapacitated. After 3 bed changes, he finally got a puke bucket system in place for J and made himself a pallet on the floor and hunkered down.



Tuesday, Ben of course stayed home sick and we took shifts caring for Weston downstairs and being quarantined upstairs in our bedroom with Jackson. Neither of us could fully function and Jackson was still throwing up. Thankfully Weston did not get sick at all, and honestly, if he had, I am not sure how we would have been able to manage.

If nothing else, this little bout made me realize how precious our health is, and made me realize how fragile we, as humans, truly are. If a microscopic virus that we cannot even see can cause us so much damage to our bodies, how can we think, even for a minute, that we are in control of this life?


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