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Family, Health, School

A tale of six vomits

03.05.11 | Comment?

Friday was my last test of four block exams. Really it’s two tests combined into one. Anyway our block tests were at 9 AM this time (and they have been at 1 PM the rest of the year), so my friends and I were getting to school at 6 AM. Coupled with staying up late to study, I really got much less sleep this week than I typically do, and it was nice to sleep in this morning.

Thursday night we had Zoe’s friend over while her parents went to a concert. I decided pizza was a safe bet for the evening, given that I still needed to study a little bit. We determined that Zoe’s friend and Zoe preferred cheese pizza. They began eating a red bell pepper appetizer while playing a computer game, and continued playing during pizza. This was the other little girl’s second dinner, and she’s thin as are many six-year-old girls, and I figured she wouldn’t eat much. I was wrong. Each time she requested another slice, Zoe exclaimed, “Me, too!” Glasses of milk were poured. About the third slice, Zoe had slowed, and eventually her friend ran out of steam on her fifth. (For reference, they’re small pizzas, but all four adults in the house stopped after 2 or 3 slices.) Zoe had a half glass of orange juice. The two played a little more, and after awhile we got into pajamas and read a story in the princess tent. It was a good night, and when the other parents returned, goodbyes were said. I noticed Zoe’s face was red, but I thought it might have been the running around. All in all, it was an uneventful night.

Until about 15 minutes later. We were in bed, playing Plants vs. Zombies per usual, and an uneasy tense feeling came over me. The girl was going to vomit. Within 10 seconds, she coughed and covered my top half in chunks of pizza and red bell pepper. We made it to the bathroom, where she finished the job on my bottom half with two more enormous, projectile vomits from 3 feet away. She was largely unfazed. We bathed, redressed, tossed a blanket on the bed, and got situated again.

Joel had come to bed at this point. He was expressing his concern, consoling her in a way, and gave her a kiss or a head tousle, which disgruntled her enough to say she didn’t like him. I told her he loves her and is good to her, that it’s not nice to say such things and at least to give him a chance.

“But I don’t love him.”
Oh, Zoe. You do somewhere in there.

As if to counterpoint, she coughed again and covered him and his pillow. Again to the bathroom, and again two more vomits; the first was epic, and she stood there in her tiny Hello Kitty briefs staring, almost in awe, followed by a small tribute vomit. Another bath (with Dad this time), and another scavenger hunt for something to put on the bed. A tarp was considered. Fortunately she must have gotten it out of her system, because, after a discussion of the physiology of emesis, we slept soundly . At least until my alarm blared at 5. (I am officially too old for such short nights.)

Nana did so much laundry that night. When I left for school, she was passed out on the couch and blankets were drying. (Thank you.) Zoe milked the previous night’s “illness” for a day at home but had no further vomit. I really thought kids were better than adults at stopping when they’re full. In retrospect that was a LOT of salt for a tiny body, and I should have been more aware. Live and learn.

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