My blog has moved!

You should be automatically redirected in 5 seconds. If not, visit
and update your bookmarks.Thanks for your help, Eric!

Sunday, February 21, 2010

What's a funeral without gastroenteritis 5 days later?

Currently, in this house our physical health matches our internal turmoil. There's a word for that, but I can't remember what it is. I want to say onomatapoeia and not type it because then I'll have to doublecheck its spelling and it's wrong.

Younger daughter was stricken last night and elder daughter is contorting over the commode every 20 minutes or so. Poor thing.

So, in addition to sadness and compassion, a little dose of gastro-bug was given during the visitation and funeral for my husband's brother. Normally, this kind of sickness makes me angry, but I've already been dealing with monumental anger issues since Simon died.

I've surrendered to the vomiting.

Nothing keeps one as grounded as vomit. So, my grief-stricken-zombie state has been replaced with frantic mopping, head holding and frequent "poor, poor baby". My poor older sickling is now producing only water and bile and I would do anything to spare her. I can't, so I think of mothers all over the world who watch over their seriously (cholera or typhoid) sick children and I send them my compassion. I'll try and keep the gastroenteritis to myself though.

Taking care of my stricken sicklings has me hopping and motivated. Motivated to clean all the toilets in the house, especially the one off the master bedroom.

I figure that in the next 24 to 48 hours, when I'm kneeling at the porcelain altar myself, I don't want to be contemplating the shit stains. Know what I'm saying? And that thought made me smile. Shit is also quite grounding.


  1. Under all the duress, you have not lost your sense of humor. Here's hoping you don't come down with it as well. Hope the kids are better soon.

  2. Bloody but unbowed -- that's my Patti. But holy hell, really? The barf gods thought THIS was appropriate timing?

    sorry, I'm accidentally signed in as my son. Allison

  3. Oh, Patti, that sucks. I really hope you don't get it. Hope the kids feel better soon.

    Thanks for the post - it made me laugh.