Waiting for the other shoe to drop

Our family has been in a self-imposed quarantine state since this morning.

Last night Jackson handily returned his half-eaten dinner into his plate. He quite literally tossed his crackers. At first we thought he had just gagged after overstuffing his mouth with goldfish. Then we wondered if maybe he had eaten something bad during the day since the remnants had a sour milk stench to it. But by the time midnight rolled around, we were wondering if he had the nastiest of all viruses - the stomach flu. What evidence would suggest that, you ask? More signs of dinner (and the after-purge replacement snack we gave him) making its reappearance on his bed, his pajamas, and the bucket we rushed next to his bed. Twice more.

So we decided that we would play it safe and not go to church and run the risk of potentially infecting others if it was viral in origin. I emailed the hosts of our Sunday evening small group to let them know not to expect us, moved Kiran out of Jackson's room, and climbed into bed with Ian nervously awaiting more of the same.

The night was blissfully uninterrupted, causing us to lean toward a diagnosis of food poisoning, but we still planned to stay home the rest of the day. Then I checked my email. It turned out that some friends Jackson had visited with on Thursday night were similarly affected - both adults had taken ill. With that information we felt safe in diagnosing him with the stomach flu. But we didn't feel safe at all. That meant we had most likely been exposed to the same virus.

It's been a rather surreal day. It was quite enjoyable not having an agenda. We watched "Cars", which Jackson finally earned after going to the potty 24 times. And we cleaned a bit, since we had an incentive to get the carpet under the dinner table clean. But the entire day was undergirded by a sense of doom. We were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering if and when one or all of the rest of us would succumb to the stomach flu. Every time Ian would move toward the bathroom, I would wonder if the time had come. And as I took my Sunday afternoon nap, he heard the gurgles of my stomach and wondered if I was the next victim.

So far so good. Another 24 hours or so and we'll know if we're all clear. In the meantime, we're here waiting for the other shoe to drop and sincerely, earnestly hoping that it doesn't and that we make it out of this most recent infectious episode unscathed.

Ah the joys of children and the viral farmer's market to which they avail us!

Clarice