Last week was flu week at casa Cowan. The cheesedoodle started us off on Tuesday with repeated spectacular gastroenterological displays. The poor little guy couldn’t keep anything more than a couple of tablespoons of liquid in his stomach for 12 hours. In between he just lay on the couch and signed, “thirsty.” It was really horrible.
Wednesday was the snickerdoodle. Fortunately it didn’t last that long.
Thursday was me. Ugh. If I could have just lay on the couch and signed “thirsty,” I would have. In fact, when I put the children to bed at 7:30, I got into bed too and fell asleep before they did.
Friday was Jonathan and while he didn’t have the sheer number of technicolor spewing episodes the cheesedoodle did, he was hit harder than any of us, and didn’t fully recover until Saturday around dinner time.
Sunday morning the mackerdoodle complained that her stomach was hurting and she didn’t want to eat breakfast. She proceeded to sit at the breakfast table and sing happily. If we hadn’t just gone through week of the plague we would have ignored her; however we decided to be cautious and keep her home from church. I came home from church to find her running laps around the basement. “So she’s fine?” I said to Jonathan. The facial expression I got in return spoke VOLUMES.
We went upstairs and I made lunch while giving Jonathan a rundown of the sermon. Just as I was about to call the children for lunch, there was an unmistakeable sound of cough/gagging followed by that sickening splat. In one fell swoop the mackerdoodle managed to compress all of the cheesedoodle’s combined episodes into one great big, long, enhanced episode. In 3D. With surround sound. When it was over, she said, “Oh. Wow. That was surprising. Now can I lie on the couch and watch TV, like cheesedoodle got to ?”
We said yes. She wasn’t sick again. In fact, she got tired of lying on the couch after 45 minutes and was dancing around the living room within an hour.
I have wiped every surface in my home with disinfecting wipes more times than I can count. I have washed sheets and sprayed Lysol spray and handed out airborne at every meal and we still all managed to contract the flu one at a time. It goes to show two things: You just can’t keep a family completely healthy, and the Lord is kind to have handed this out one at a time instead of hitting the entire family in one miserable festival of mutual suffering.
Let’s not do that again for a while, though.