If I were a believer, I’d be willing to admit that we had been given sign after sign to turn back. Apparently, I don’t listen well. Or pay attention. Or follow my gut.
We start with day 1 for travel. Keb woke up sick. I don’t recall now whether he vomited or merely had diarrhea; however, he was not well for the third day in a row (it had started on Thursday, and we woke up to him vomiting on Friday). I verbally contemplated cancelling the trip or at least rescheduling it. Taed was nice enough to imply heavily I was being an idiot. So we gave the child Immodium (we’ve since learned the medical community DOES NOT want us doing such things), and went off to Des Moines.
Where he decided to have trouble breathing at my Mom’s house. (sigh) Again. OK, this is my fault for trying to get us to stay with her and not just booking a hotel. Needless to say, in doing all that, I think I made her feel bad. Of course none of it is her fault. Keb is the only child, grandchild, or great-grandchild with an allergy to pets. We live 1800 miles away. Her pets all bring her joy (and frustration). She’s a good pet-mommy. It was off to the Embassy Suites.
Sunday went really, really well. Keb didn’t eat much, but he enjoyed playing with Avery, my cousin’s son. He also hung out with his Aunt Chris playing with the iPad. As the owner of a smart phone, she already had many of the same apps we did. When we left, it was with the feeling we’d had a good day. Monday, too, went pretty much without a hitch. He was bored at my Aunt Irene’s — she’s older, there were no kids, and nothing to play with but the iPad — but he suffered through it. We actually even exercised a bit when we got back to the hotel, before Mom picked us up to go to Gordman’s to buy Angry Bird plushies, AND the game.
I thought we were in the clear. Then at 2:00 am, he was sick. So, so sick. Diarrhea and vomiting. Crying. Poor little guy. He was complaining of stomach cramps and breathing weird by morning (despite regular nebulizer use) so Mom took us to Methodist/Blank Hospital. We got in right away. His blood oxygen was 99% so I was happy. It was only, however, a bug. He was given anti-nausea medicine and by 10:00 we were off (2 hours seems like a pretty good visit). So we decided to head to Storm Lake with Cassie and her boys to an aquatic center.
Where Ian immediately picked up Keb’s bug, and it rained.
OK, it had already been raining. Hell, I knew it was raining before I left California because I have the Weather Bug app. Did I pack for rain? No. Did I pack for cold? No. Did I once consider that, if it was raining we should do something else? Not once.
Here’s where things that are seemingly OK go really, really, really bad. I won’t go linearly or even logically.
It rains so there is no outdoor water park. Both Keb and Ian end up at various times (and sometimes at the same time) vomiting. I’m sure being stuck in the same room together without having it aired out didn’t help, but that’s another “what were you thinking” moment. There was a need for more undies due to diarrhea. THere wasn’t enough anti-nausea medicine to go around. I suspect both were eating stuff that bothered their stomachs when we weren’t looking. I admit I wasn’t looking because I had wanted that time to catch up with Cassie. Ian threw up some more. The weather was beautiful and the outdoor water park would be open the day we left. Keb threw up in Cassie’s brand new to her van (thankfully she looked at the bright side that the seats were leather) and there we were on some local highway next to a field trying to clean up the kid and the van.
It’s true that we should have raised the white flag earlier and admitted defeat. I called Taed who got us an earlier flight from Des Moines. I knew things had gone from bad to “oh my God please shut my kid up” when Keb decided to wax “poetic” about his dislike for Kobe (Cassie’s youngest who is almost 2) TO Cassie during the last hour of the ride back to DM. If that’s not a sign to give up, I don’t know what is.
We’re home now. He’s still got diarrhea, and I’m exhausted.
I think it will be some time before we contemplate taking a destination vacation again. Next time though, someone gets sick, we abort the mission.
OH MY GOD!
Everything but the Kitchen Sink 