... and it's called the interminable stomach flu. Wilder had been blech-free for days -- if not quite well; he's not been eating regularly, is quite tired and such --and then this morning yakked in his crib again after his morning bottle. He seems fine otherwise; is playing and such, but we're keeping a close eye on him.
And if my liveblog from the other night gave anyone the impression that I handled it well and got over it easy, well ... that would be a misinterpretation of what ended up being one hour in a 24-hour-plus ordeal. I ended the liveblog, whether I knew it or not (the details are hazy to me now) just in time to dive headfirst into a full night and day of misery. Man, that sucked. Unlike the other night, I'll spare the details. I've had nothing but Gatorade, chocolate pudding and coffee (girl's gotta keep on top of that massive caffeine addiction if she's not going to add smack-like withdrawal symptoms to a fever and crushing stomach cramps) for more than a day now. On the plus side, I've read a ton of my book, Wonder Boys, which I'd recommend if you want to feel better about your own shitty circumstances : )
Anyway, Jerry remains sick-free, though at this point he's doing so much of the drudgery around here he might be wishing for the virus. Poor guy. Think I'll go shuffle around the house and try to look busy ...
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