Son Departure

Those of you who follow me on Facebook or who read my blog yesterday know that I'm in Florida, but what you don't know if that this trip almost didn't happen.

Spencer and I had plane tickets to fly from Ohio to Florida on Saturday morning.

At 5:50 a.m., I received a text from Spencer that he was throwing up. Doesn't matter if you 5 or 20, apparently you still want your mom when you're sick. 

I trundled down the stairs with a glass of water and tucked him back into bed, hoping that it was just a fluke, a one-time thing. But less than an hour later I heard him throwing up again. He continued to throw up all morning as the clock ticked toward time for us to leave for the airport.

We were flying on a small airline that only has two flights per week from Columbus to Florida. If we didn't make the Saturday plane, he couldn't get back to school by the time classes started on Monday.

Earl suggested we should simply drive down to Florida on Sunday when Spencer was better. So I resigned myself. Then Spencer rallied and we journeyed to the airport. 

By this time, Spencer's stomach issues had migrated south as well. 

As we climbed on the plane, I asked the flight attendant if we could sit in the back row by the bathrooms. She doubled up some trash bags and handed them to Spencer.

The flight took less than two hours and when the fasten seat belt lights were off, Spence mostly stayed in the bathroom. 

The plane coming in to land over Tampa Bay and the Bayside Bridge that stretches from Clearwater to Tampa

We landed and Spencer lay day on a concrete bench in front of the airport while I went in search of our rental car. Poor guy. Even at 6-foot, 4-inches, he's my baby. I felt so bad for him.

As we drove the 10-miles from the airport to his college, he clutched the plastic bags and heaved into them. When we got into his room, he promptly climbed into bed. I went shopping for groceries and made a couple of trips from the car to his room. I broke my New Year resolution by using plastic grocery bags. I just didn't plan ahead and bring bags with me for shopping in Florida. I even looked at the Walmart for cloth bags to buy, but no luck. (I usually avoid Walmart but make an exception only when dropping kids at college.) Hopefully, Spencer will feel like eating some of those groceries again soon.

I felt bad leaving him there in bed. His head felt warm, like he maybe had a fever, but he said he was feeling better and just needed sleep. Hope he got some.The last time I went to the dorm and had to force him to open the door for me, I snapped this picture of him. I told  him, open your eyes, so he did, and then he stumbled back to bed. I, however, drove to my parents house and am basking in the sun now.

Here are a couple of photos from my morning run. Hope you all have something equally inspiring in your days today. 

Too Sick

Too sick to lie on the couch and watch TV. Too sick to read. Too sick to talk on the phone. That's how I felt yesterday. I could only lie in my bed with my hand over my face grasping the sides of my head. That and getting up to vomit were my only activities.
I woke up with a headache. Truthfully, it felt like what I remember from long ago hangover headaches. I decided to get over it. I had a glass of water while Grace got ready for swim practice. Then I popped two Advil before I woke Spencer up for basketball. I dressed, shoved my computer in a bag and determined to go to the coffee shop to write after I dropped him at school.
"Uhh," I moaned as we drove toward the high school.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"My head hurts so much I feel like I'm going to throw up."
I let him out and watched him trudge through the snow. Then I turned left toward the coffee shop. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, fighting the headache and nausea before I drove back home. I sat in the garage for a few minutes.
That's when I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the one. It means you had better run for the bathroom.
I got out of the car and grabbed my computer. I hurried up the sidewalk. Nope. I wasn't going to make it.
Tucker had carefully shuffled his name in the snow the night before. But it said TUKER with a little carat between the U and K to add the C he had forgotten. "Sorry, Tuck," I thought as I bent over the snow and threw up. I hoped none of my neighbors were outside.
I continued the walk to the house. Darn! I had locked the door. I puked once more in the brick flower box beside the back door. It was covered with snow so I hoped it would kind of wash things away.
When I finished in the bathroom, I threw my clothes on the floor and climbed into bed. My husband was still in bed.
"Don't talk to me. Don't touch me. I'm throwing up," I said.
And he said, "What?"
That's where I spent the day, vaguely wondering if this was a migraine with vomiting, or a stomach virus with headache.
The headache was definitely the worst part. Each time I leaned over the toilet, I thought, "Oh, please, don't let the kids catch this." They don't have the pain tolerance I do and I was miserable.
So yesterday, I didn't work on my novel, I didn't work out and I didn't get to see Spencer's basketball game,
I ate and drank nothing until about 6:30 when Tucker brought me half an inch of Seven Up.
About 8:30, I ventured out to the couch to watch the Wisconsin/Univ. of Miami game, only leaving it a few times to throw up again.
This morning, the headache was waiting for me, but not as severe. I feel it prodding me gently above my left eye. I might not get a workout in, but I've already had a cup of tea, so I hope for a more productive day.
Ugh! I hate being sick.