Sometimes I feel like my life sees more than its fair share of bodily fluids. Perhaps its just my perception.
Last post I wrote about John's first birthday party during which he vomited for the first time ever. (This is not counting all the spit up of his first several months of life. Spit up and vomit are very different, which many of you already know. Spit up, while not pleasant, is much less disgusting.) His party was Saturday night. We had driven into San Antonio earlier that day. Peter's schedule had worked out nicely so that he could take Sunday and Monday off. We were looking forward to time with family and a little time to relax- more than we had anticipated since Peter rarely has two days in a row off.
We were able to enjoy most of our day Sunday. Which included a book discussion over Cleopatra's Daughter with my mom and her friends to which everyone wore a homemade hat in the style of the Royal Wedding. This kind of thing would only ever happen at my mother's house with her friends. Not that I wasn't a willing participant.
Sunday evening I began to feel a little nauseated. Peter and I went to dinner with some friends during which my veggie sandwich seemed as palatable as a cat carcass. Finally, towards the end of the meal I ran to the bathroom for my own "baby John moment." Thankfully, I made it in the toilet, unlike my son. We went home and I went to bed shortly thereafter. Overnight, one by one, everyone under my mom's roof fell victim to whatever it was that was that had made me sick. We all spent the night jockeying for position on or over the toilet.
However, when John woke up bright-eyed at 6:30 am on Monday morning, I didn't yet know that everyone else had become ill. I got up with him- he showed no signs of being sick whatsoever. I told myself that the very next person to arise would get the pleasure of John's company while I went back to sleep. Then, it slowly dawned on me that no one else was going to wake up. Well, not that day. No one died. But everyone slept the day away. Except John who was positively brimming with energy! Yay!
We never determined what made us all sick. We ruled out food poisoning relatively certainly. It could be that John gave us all a virus that he had. But John never seemed sick. Everyone else seemed like death warmed over.
Most of us perked up by that afternoon, so Peter and I were able drive back to Houston Monday evening. On the way out of town we stopped by Smoothie King. My goodness. Have you been to Smoothie King? It is like Starbucks on steroids in terms of the decisions that have to be made.
They had a helpful sign which outlined the process of choosing a smoothie. Methinks the menu is a mite complicated when it requires an algorithm simply to order. There were four steps. The first injunction was to "pick your function." Is it necessary for my smoothie to have a function, I wondered? I can't remember what the functions were, something about bulking up or slimming down. I pretty much only wanted to eat something that would not make an encore appearance outside of my stomach.
While I'm trying to follow the instructions for choosing my smoothie Peter nudges me and says "look who's behind you."
"Who?!" I ask, a little panicked because I look like someone who has had a poor night of sleep punctuated with moments of cradling the toilet bowl as if it were a long lost child. I wasn't in the mood to reminisce with high school friends.
"It's David Robinson," Peter said.
"Oh. Thanks goodness, it's only David Robinson." Relieved, I turned and stole a glimpse of David Robinson, a former Spurs player for those that don't know him. (Which I would not if I hadn't been raised in San Antonio.) He, of course, is a very tall man and he drives a very nice Porsche, which we saw as we exited. And he is just the person I would want to see in a Smoothie King looking the way I did, since he most certainly didn't give me a second glance.
I finally managed to order a smoothie without knowing what exactly would be in it despite the posted tutorial. Whatever it was, it stayed down.
While I was laying on my sick bed Sunday night I was reminded of this Bible verse: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." 1 Thess. 5:16-18 I found several things to be thankful for that night and afterward:
1. I'm so thankful that I can be sick in the lap of luxury with things like, air conditioning, running water, pillows and huge plastic bowls in which I can throw up without ever leaving the comfort of my bed.
2. I'm thankful that the vomiting and diarrhea portion of the illness passed quickly for me. As I mentioned, John was healthy and full of energy. As I realized that no one else would be waking up to help me with him, I also realized that I only felt weak and tired. Which is much better than feeling like everything that I've ever ingested is trying to make it back to the outside world.
3. I'm thankful that John didn't get very sick. He has had a very healthy first year!
4. I'm thankful that whatever made us sick was not something that we ate at the party. There were around 30 people there and we would have felt terrible if they had all gotten sick.
5. I'm so thankful for restored health! Everyone seems to be back to normal now. What a gift!