While my husband, the baby and I were out doing our weekly grocery shopping on Sunday morning, my husband told me he felt like he had a hangover.  It would have made perfect sense had he been out drinking the night before, but he (and I) has (have) been stone cold sober for the month of January.  He was complaining of a headache and nausea.  I asked him if he wanted to leave the store that we were in and he said no.  He seemed ok for the rest of the outing, but wasn't his usual go-get-em self.

When we got home, and put B down for a nap, I started doing my usual Sunday afternoon routine of baking, cooking, and cleaning.  My husband sat on the couch, turned on golf, and then promptly fell asleep.  Of course, I had to take a picture of him and send it to my friends because, let's face it, most mommies would never have the time to sit on the couch and nap on a Sunday afternoon.

Later that evening, I asked him how he was doing and he said he felt better.  "Phew", I thought to myself.  I would hate for him to have that horrid Norwalk virus that seems to be circulating around the office, gym, etc.  The "Phew" turned into, "Oh shit," when we sat down to dinner and I was finished with my bowl of delish paleo chili before he had taken 3 bites.  I asked him if he didn't like it and he told me his stomach was bothering him.  Uh oh.  Not something I was wanting to hear.

I went to bed early, as I usually try to do since I am up 2-3 times a night.  I fell asleep and at 11 PM, was jarred out of a deep sleep by the sound of my husband heaving his dinner into the toilet.  I went down and found him hunched over the toilet, barely responsive to my questions regarding his current well-being.  I let him be, since I know how I want to be treated when I am throwing up...left alone.  I went back up and fell asleep.

B woke me up around 12:30 AM for a midnight snack and my husband was still throwing up.  Not sure if it was sympathy sickness, but I started to feel queasy.  Something about everything that surrounds throw-up makes me want to throw-up.  Gross.

Around 4 AM, he came up and got into bed.  I had already sent an email to my boss telling her that I was going to be out of the office the following day.  One- I needed to take care of the ill, two- I needed to be prepared if B caught it, and three- I'd rather not throw up on the train if I was getting sick.

The next day was a whirlwind of grocery shopping, cleaning, disinfecting, and more cleaning.  I spent about $100 on Clorox and Pinesol products and disinfected both bathrooms, the kitchen, and the living room/dining rooms.  I switched out all of the tooth brushes and washed all of the linens.  I then made my husband some almost paleo chicken soup with rice (I know, not paleo, but at least it was gluten free).  He ate about 2 bites of it along with some of the best tasting cantaloupe I have ever tried and about 2 gallons of coconut water.

He stayed in our room all day and all night., alternating between sleeping and reading. He must have slept 30 hours between Sunday and today.   He hadn't thrown up or had diarrhea since Sunday night, but he said he still had a headache, a slight fever, and terrible body aches (probably complicated by the fact that he had done a CrossFit competition on Saturday).  Ugh how long does this thing last?!

Last night I slept on the floor in B's room.  While it was rather uncomfortable sleeping on a wood floor with no air mattress (I am afraid to get it out of the attic due to a bat sighting up there the previous week), it was convenient to get to B three times last night.  Growth spurt?  Perfect timing!!

This morning I made my husband some scrambled eggs, heated peaches, and a slice of paleo banana bread along with some lemon/ginger tea.  Yes, he is still dead stuck on this Paleo Challenge, even on his death-bed.  He was very appreciative, which was nice, considering this morning I had to take the trash/recycle out and the back gate was frozen shut so I had to remove all of the bags from the trash, throw them over the fence, throw the trash can over the fence (had to drop it on my foot, first), then put the trash back in, all while swearing and in my pajamas in 10 degree weather.  Single mommies, you have my sympathy!

I am sincerely hoping that my son and I don't get this terrible virus.  Not only would I be so worried about B getting dehydrated and ending up in the ER, but I would be worried about me getting dehydrated while trying to breastfeed and also ending up in the ER.  Praying none of these two things happen.  Hand washing like crazy and you should, too.  Stay healthy my friends!!!  

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