So far, 2011 has not been my friend.
JD and I grabbed a pizza on the night of January 1 from one of our favorite local pizza places. No biggie. I woke up abruptly at 5 a.m. the next morning. Oh dear… hello, food poisoning. Shortly behind me in the bathroom? Sweet hubby.
I don’t want to get too graphic here on Schmate, but good night, it was bad. Plus, my epic 8+ year-streak of not throwing up went down the drain, literally. (I hate throwing up. More than anything else.)
So, all day, January 2nd, JD and I laid around the house in our pajamas, sleeping off and on, and frequenting our bathrooms. It reminded me of that “Sex and the City” episode where Charlotte and Harry had this nice French dinner but spent most of the night on their nice bathroom floor, holding hands and throwing up. That was me and JD… only we could barely move, and instead of the floor, we laid on our bed, with bowl games (haha) in the background. And, instead of fine French dining, we ate pizza. But, still.
One good thing that came out of this: I have even more love for my dog (if that was possible). I don’t plan to get too sentimental on here and yes she’s just a dog, but I am so glad we have Lucy. She laid with us the whole time. Even when I curled up pitifully on the couch in our bedroom (which is closer to the bathroom than our bed), she jumped up and just snuggled me. She happily obliged when we wanted to go to bed very early, and she didn’t even complain when she was not fed on time. She was our friend and knew we didn’t feel good… I don’t know how she knows, but she did. My favorite moment was when JD and I were in different bathrooms, so she split the difference and sat between the rooms until one of us came out.
Here’s a (very blurry) picture of Lucy fulfilling role of #1 companion by helping in my recovery efforts yesterday and Monday. This picture pretty much sums it up.