We’ve been in Dallas, Georgia for the past few days visiting Angel’s family for Thanksgiving. I thought it unwise to announce this on a public blog being that some might interpret it as an invitation to stop by and take our stuff. Of course I’m not talking about you.

This was by far the most miserable Thanksgiving ever.

On Wednesday I worked half a day and picked Riley up from school early to take him to the doctor to have his “bug bite” looked at. It had started out about the size of a mosquito bite and within five days it was the size of a golf ball. It turned out to be a boil from a staff infection. It needed to be lanced and drained. Now. So I helped hold him down and tried to whisper comfort into his ear while he screamed at the top of his lungs for what seemed like 15 minutes straight. Good times.

Angel and I also have to be treated for staff which involves rubbing an ointment inside your nose with a Q-tip twice a day for seven days. Nostrilicious.

On Friday at about 4:30 AM I woke up with diarrhea (my old friend) and nausea so bad that I resorted to the old stick-your-finger-down-your-throat trick to induce vomiting. This didn’t really produce the desired result considering that I had just drank two full bottles of water to keep myself from puking. A little water came up but that’s not exactly what was causing the nausea.

The incessant vomiting did finally arrive on its own. The diarrhea continued. The fever came. The everything-hurts thing came too. If there really is such a thing as the 24 hour stomach flu, I had it.

Saturday afternoon about half an hour into our trip home Riley says “I feel like I have to throw up”. His face is completely white. Panic ensues. The he says “I have to go poo poo”. Panic continues. Angel grabs a trash bag and puts his face in it as I speed towards the next rest stop. By the time we reached the rest stop Riley was skipping and singing on the way to the bathroom like nothing had ever happened, which in fact, hadn’t. Just a false alarm I guess.

So we’re back home now. I still don’t feel right. It doesn’t seem to matter how much ice cream I eat, I still feel kind of woozy. Oh well. I’ll just keep trying.