Friday, February 11, 2005


If you've seen the movie The Sixth Sense, then you may remember the scene where the boy, Cole, has a visit with a dead girl's ghost in the makeshift tent in his room. The girl, who we later learn died by ingesting one too many "Drano" cocktails, proceeds to puke all over herself, and then calmly states, "I feel much better now." Her purge experience and comment basically sums up how I felt before and after writing my last post. Sometimes I get in a funk and take life much too seriously, and thankfully my family has a funny way of pulling me back into reality...take JG's barfing episode last night, for example.

I should have known that all was not well when my three-year-old daughter went to bed last night without much fuss. I wasn't surprised in the least to find her in bed with us at 3:00 AM either since bad dreams and strange sounds will often lead her to seek refuge in our room. But what is strange about the entire episode is how I sensed that something bad was about to happen.

I was having a terrible nightmare about my oldest daughter when I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. She has had a terrible cough the past week, and I was beginning to wonder if the cold had turned into something much more serious - like a pneumonia. In my dream, KS was barely breathing, so I took her to the doctor's office where they began administering breathing treatments immediately. I was really scared that I might loose her. Next thing I know, KS starts puking in my dream. Because I am really phobic about "puke" in general - I haven't barfed since 1978, and that's no lie - I immediately woke myself up.

When I woke up, I realized that little JG was cuddling up to me, and I was happy to have a kid there to hug to bring me back to reality. She seemed to be in a deep sleep, so I rolled over and started to fall back asleep. Next thing I know, I instinctively jumped out of bed. Almost immediately, JG began a solo version of the "barf-o-rama." My husband, a very deep sleeper, half way woke up to the episode and kept asking, "What's going on," with his eyes half shut. "JG is puking all over," I said with intensity. In the mean time I was trying to gather every towel in proximity to help contain the mess.

Since I have this puking phobia, my husband and I generally have an understanding that he takes care of all barfing children. But next week he is going away on a business trip to a third-world country, and a stomach virus is the last thing a person wants to deal with away from home. Clearly I would have to step up to the plate.

To make a long story short, I spent the next five hours cleaning up puke while I frantically attempted to kill and lingering puke causing bacterial in my house. Everything was washed, wiped down, and sprayed. I am amazed that the rest of the family pretty much slept through the frenzy.

What amazes me more was the fact that I pretty much remained calm through the whole thing. In the past, if I even thought someone near me might puke, I ran and hid. This time I didn't do that. In fact, I didn't feel panicky at all.

Even more strange than that was how I instinctively new that barf was coming. I seriously think I have "barfdar." It's like the phenomena that happened with the animals when the recent tsunami approached parts of Thailand. The animals fled to higher ground because they felt that something bad was about to happen. I'm not sure if my "barfdar" is a God given trait or it is something I've developed over the years. Although I know I have a heightened sense of perception, keep in mind that JG was in a deep sleep before this all happened.

What ever it is, I'm thankful for it. I managed to get through the entire episode without being puked on. Thankfully, JG is feeling much better now, and I can only hope that my preventative sanitizing will eliminate the need for me to use my barfdar again in the next few days.


Ch@ndy said...

You would be a different person if it weren't for Cherry Lifesavers.

bluesugarpoet said...

Yeah - and if my brother didn't puke so much when we were growing up, I'm sure I would be half as phobic about it. But then I would be half as interesting as well - and half as strange. :)