The "firsts" just keep on coming. Last night I was at work and in the middle of signing off orders for a blood transfusion on a patient when the first wave of nausea hit me. I toughed it out because if I learned anything from being pregnant it is that the human body can always handle A LITTLE MORE. So I kept going.
Two hours later I was running towards the bathroom (a quick walk actually because the unwritten rule is that you never run in an ICU- people start grabbing the code carts..) and puking up the spinach salad I ate for lunch... 7 hours prior. Gross.
They sent me home at 9 and I walked in the door to a husband running to the bathroom. We spent the night trading off in the bathroom but the most miserable I think I have ever been in my life was being roused from a sweaty sickness sleep by a crying baby at 1AM wanting to eat. WebMD said the best thing was to have someone else feed her my expressed milk and stay away from her myself, but Grant was in worse shape then I was so I said a prayer and went in to feed my baby.
So this is what it's like to be a family. I don't think Grant and I have ever been sick at the same time- usually one of us is getting better while the other one is getting worse. This morning I have kept down a cup of tea and 4 grapes and he is sleeping. I keep seeing little germy microbes dancing and laughing on my sheets and the bathroom floor.. I might be hallucinating.