Saturday, March 31, 2007

Vomit in Places it Never Should Be

My new blog friend Eve shared some insight into her passion for reading in her Friday post. I couldn’t help but recall the same fervor with which I read as a young girl. There was one particular paperback biography of Florence Nightingale that I repeatedly checked out of the school library. I read it cover to cover on numerous occasions. I would be so enthralled in the book, that sometimes I’d crawl out of bed onto the bare wood floor and pull the thin ball chain to turn on the closet light. There I sat half shivering in my nightgown while holding the book at an angle to catch the light peering from the open closet door. In that position I would read well into the night.

The book about a very brave nurse made me wonder if perhaps I’d want to be a nurse someday. As it turns out it’s a good thing I didn’t pursue the field of medicine, because I had no idea what a weak stomach I had until I became a mother. The bodily fluids I come in contact with on any given day can be more than what I am capable of handling. In fact, there are days when I feel as though I’ve been called upon to deal with more than is fair.

One such day occurred when D1 was about two years old. She was quietly snuggled in my lap. I held her close while talking with DH, and then she turned to look at me and seemed a bit pale. Looking down, I asked if she was okay. And right when I verbalized the ‘k’ in ‘okay’, she vomited.

Projectile positioned perfectly into my open mouth! I dropped my sick child on the floor and while pointing in an exaggerated fashion to my agape jaws not daring to close or swallow, I repeatedly hollered “Ing ee a owel. Urree!” Which loosely translates into, “DH, forget the vomiting child on the floor, she will pull through. But I may not! I have vomit in my mouth – vomit that is not my own!” DH, being a parent first and a husband second, picked up and caressed the still heaving and now crying-because-she-was-dropped youngster. It was not until he was certain she was going to survive, that he finally managed to grab a kitchen towel so I could attempt to mop my mouth.

That well-loved Florence Nightingale paperback seemed so dramatic at the time, as she helped ill and wounded infantry on the battlefront. But somehow the novel was not comprehensive enough to prepare me for nursing sick children at home, let alone sick soldiers at war.


  1. Oh boy, did this post strike a chord! Laughed with guilt and empathy - look forward to reading more..

  2. My blog friend and best-selling novelist David McMahon has just awarded Uncommon Notions as one of the Top Blogs of the week. In my frenzied excitement I rejected his post instead of publishing it!

    Here it is:

    Hi Deborah,

    Have a look at Aussiejourno's Weekly Blog Awards.

    You might find something interesting there!


  3. Congrats, Debbie-but EWWWW! I thought I had it bad when my son projectile vomited from his top bunk (all over the carpet, his siblings blankets, walls, and even the cat who was sleeping on the floor). But, no, I think yours was worse-by far.

    As for reading-I used to hide my book in the bathroom and sneak in the middle of the night to read-until I would lose feeling in my legs. It was the only way to finish my book without mom and dad finding out-they had to let me go to the bathroom :)

  4. This post made me laugh out loud. I tried to relate the hilarity to my husband, but he was eating oatmeal, and didn't think it was funny. At all. Thanks for sharing - we all would have dropper her!

  5. Mmmnn, he's a wonderful guy, isn't he? He was very flattering to me, too. I just wanted to leave a positive comment, is all.

  6. Eve-
    "...even the cat..." I can picture that so clearly - how funny! Funny since I was not the one cleaning it up. I'm guessing you got that blessed job.

  7. SuperMomPreneur,
    So sorry to have ruined you husband's breakfast. Should have included a disclaimer that this post contained explicit mental images.

  8. shrinkwrapped-
    Your "empathy" goes a long way. Perhaps if I had not dropped poor D1 at the time I would have received more of that wonderful "empathy" from DH.
    Thanks for stopping by!

  9. Uuuugh! I had a cat sneeze in my face once. That was bad enough. Then he saw me flinching and holding both hands to my face and he came and tapped them with a paw to check I was OK. Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!

  10. As for hubby, if he didn't help me straight away in that situation I'd have grabbed him and snogged him then see how he likes someone else's vomit in his mouth!

  11. I understand how that is. I had my best friends daughter a few weeks ago, and we were both sick. She was like my stomach hurts, and the next thing I know, was she, I and the bed were covered with vomit. Ugh. Not a good thing. However, she is cute so I was not mad at her. However I think she is allergic to me. She throws up just about everytime I have her. Not good ROXY

  12. B.T. Bear -
    Cat sneeze - yuck! At least the cat showed concern - aren't pets great?
    P.S. I'm willing to pay $500 to find S1-D3's dog a good home. To qulaify as a good home it must be one other than my own. E-mail me if interested!

  13. I learned my one nephew liked me when he puked on me. Ah, kids.

  14. Poor, Leon,
    He really thinks its sign of affection!?

  15. Helena,
    Just love that word "snogged". I'm going to try to use it during my everyday speech sometime today. And DH would love a good snog under any other circumstances, I'm sure.

  16. Rock Dweller,
    Don't worry - she's not allergic to you. You've just got to stop feeding her all the twinkes, hot dogs, and ice cream she can eat every time she visits.


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