If I didn’t laugh I’d cry.
This week has been a bit crap, quite literally. (only read on if you have a strong stomach, this is a TMI post.)
On Monday night Sausage started with Norovirus, ie, projectile vomiting and producing poos like some kind of yellow, luminous alien goo from a horror film. Nasty, and even nastier when dealt with at 3am half asleep. So that was fun.
Tuesday, Sausage was off nursery, and merrily threw up and pood like it was going out of fashion. Darlek felt a bit left out, she told me that she wished she was ill too because she’d get more cuddles. I felt terrible when she said that, and cuddled her lots and tried to make more of a fuss of her.
Wednesday, once again, Sausage did ocassional puking and poos like cow pats.
Thursday I had a hospital appointment for an endescopy for reasons I shan’t go into, IBS or some other such inconvenience. Anyway, it was my turn. Had to starve myself for 24 hours, drink litres of laxative and consequently read masses of BBC Wildlife magazines in the bathroom. I now know more about gibbons and their habitat than I used to, but I still don’t think that makes up for the horribleness. Due to an effing admin error, my appointment didn’t go ahead. I have to do it all again for my next scheduled appointment in three weeks. Crap!
Friday, Sausage had recovered by this time, although my guts hadn’t quite. On the other hand Darlek’s wish came true, she began throwing up just before bed time. She doesn’t think being poorly is such a fab idea now though, poor love.
This morning Darlek felt particularly poorly and climbed into bed with us, I shall say only that our mattress now needs something doing with it. It’s a memory foam mattress, I do hope it doesn’t remember the episode for too long. Our carpet, cleaned only recently, has two or three damp patches that smell of Dettol too. Slippers are a necessity, failure to wear them results in soggy socks.
Today I have finished drying the duvet I had to wash in the bath. We had to throw away one of the other duvets, I simply was not prepared to deal with it. Our washing machine (only recently brought back from the dead) is making funny noises and I’m scared of it holding our washing hostage again. That would be exactly what we need right now! (Kay rolls eyes)
My hands are red raw with excessive washing with strong anti-bacterial soap and I’ve just tucked Darlek into bed after yet another hurling episode. She has a hot water, a teddy bear and a potty to cuddle up with this evening.
Sausage, now back to normal, has gone to his grandma’s for the night. Horace has buggered off biking for the weekend with his dad. It was planned for ages, I shouldn’t complain, but I can’t help it. I feel a bit like I’ve been left in the erm….poo for the weekend.
Call me evil, but when Horace gets home from his biking exploits, I hope his seat was uncomfortable and that his bum hurts. I’m not bitter.