We've been a little under the weather at our house. I think I actually got this bug back in February so this time around I didn't get very sick. Andrew, on the other hand, is pretty sick.
He's stopped throwing up but he's still concerned about losing his fluids, if you catch my drift. In desperation he did Google search after Google search, trying to find a cure for his...problem.
He must have done some heavy duty searching and I have no idea how long it took him to find this because I had a similar problem when we lived in Jordan and I just had to deal with it because nothing really worked for me--although my problem in Jordan wasn't just a 24-hour flu; it was more pharaoh's revenge and lasted beyond a month.
Anyway, Andrew found a cure in Heart & Hands: A Midwife's Guide to Pregnancy & Birth by Elizabeth Davis, a book on Google Books that he thought was a little woo-woo. After weighing his options, though, he figured he had nothing to lose and so tried the cure.
It seems to have worked so far. Our bathroom has been vacant for, oh, at least 3 hours now. That's actually pretty good considering his track record the last few days.
So, if you get the little diarrhea bug at your house, try Davis' cure:
Make a pot of rice with a 1:4 ratio, heavy on the water side. Boil until the rice is tender and drain the excess water into a mug. Drink it. Wait.
Andrew said that it tasted alright and he feels loads better, so apparently it works. Who knew? I always thought that diarrhea was something you had to wait out. Andrew thought it was something you cured with Pepto Bismol. Neither of those things worked, but the rice water did.
I almost can't wait to get sick again, just so that I can try this cure. Just kidding. I think I'll survive if I never find the opportunity to use this cure on myself. I'm not so fond of being sick.
Showing posts with label sickness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sickness. Show all posts
Monday, March 3, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Desperately Hungry
This post could have any number of titles, really. "I shouldn't have washed the sheets yesterday," or "Sudden Reflux Disorder," or "How do I know when I should take my baby in to see the doctor?"
I almost did call the doctor this morning. I said to myself, "If she does this again, I'm calling the doctor." She hasn't done it again though, and she's sleeping peacefully so I think she'll be okay.
It started at around 4:00 this morning when Rachel woke up crying. I went in to comfort her and she was acting hungry, so I brought her in bed with us and fed her. She had just fallen back to sleep and was busy snuggling up against me, trying to get comfortable, when she started coughing. I was stroking her head and telling her that everything was going to be alright when I saw a big white cloud form right above us. No sooner had I seen it than it rained down on us, completely drenching me, Rachel, and my nice, clean sheets.
My yelping and, "Oh, no! Baby!" woke Andrew up and he help dry me and Rachel off and got her some fresh pyjamas while I got changed, myself. I had to lay a towel down to cover up the big milk stain the was covering my side of the bed.
Eventually we all got settled in and slept well until seven or eight. I can't even remember when we woke up. Is that sad or what?
Andrew brought Rachel in to me and I started feeding her. She started acting like she had to go potty so we interrupted breakfast and she had a little potty time. She's so funny when she goes pee--it always takes her a bit by surprise. She'll start going and then turn around to look at me with this quizzical look on her face. I say, "You're peeing...that's pee pee," which she'll accept as a logical enough explanation and will turn back around. She understands BMs a whole lot better, probably because she has to do a little pushing so whether it happens in the potty or the diaper it feels the same (except the degree of squishiness after, in which case she prefers the potty).
Anyway, we successfully went potty and I laid Rachel down on her little mat so that I could empty the potty and wash my hands. While I was doing so I heard her ravenously sucking away at something. Expecting her to be sucking on her hand or foot, I turned around to see what she was up to.
She had flipped onto her stomach and was latched onto the floor! She had a nice clean seal, with her lips suctioned perfectly to the floor, and was sucking away. I didn't think that would be possible, but apparently it is if you're really hungry, which Rachel was so we went back to bed to finish giving her her breakfast.
After she had finished eating she looked at me, completely satisfied, and then started to drift off for her usual post-feeding shuteye, a slight smile gracing her face. Her relaxation was again interrupted by a coughing fit and, lucky for me, because she had just finished eating I was directly in her line of fire.
Cough, cough, BLAH!
She vomited up the entirety of her breakfast all over me, herself, and the towel that I had covering up the previous mess.
So Andrew ran into the bedroom and helped change Rachel while I changed myself...again. My third outfit of the day by 8 AM. I told Andrew, "If she does this again I'm going to call the doctor." I'm so worried that she'll get dehydrated or something but don't want to be one of those overreacting mothers.
As soon as she was back in my arms she wanted to eat again; she was still hungry, having missed out on two feedings already. It's been about a half hour since she ate and she's coughed a few times and has kept everything in her tummy, so I think she'll be alright. I hope she gets over this soon!
I almost did call the doctor this morning. I said to myself, "If she does this again, I'm calling the doctor." She hasn't done it again though, and she's sleeping peacefully so I think she'll be okay.
It started at around 4:00 this morning when Rachel woke up crying. I went in to comfort her and she was acting hungry, so I brought her in bed with us and fed her. She had just fallen back to sleep and was busy snuggling up against me, trying to get comfortable, when she started coughing. I was stroking her head and telling her that everything was going to be alright when I saw a big white cloud form right above us. No sooner had I seen it than it rained down on us, completely drenching me, Rachel, and my nice, clean sheets.
My yelping and, "Oh, no! Baby!" woke Andrew up and he help dry me and Rachel off and got her some fresh pyjamas while I got changed, myself. I had to lay a towel down to cover up the big milk stain the was covering my side of the bed.
Eventually we all got settled in and slept well until seven or eight. I can't even remember when we woke up. Is that sad or what?
Andrew brought Rachel in to me and I started feeding her. She started acting like she had to go potty so we interrupted breakfast and she had a little potty time. She's so funny when she goes pee--it always takes her a bit by surprise. She'll start going and then turn around to look at me with this quizzical look on her face. I say, "You're peeing...that's pee pee," which she'll accept as a logical enough explanation and will turn back around. She understands BMs a whole lot better, probably because she has to do a little pushing so whether it happens in the potty or the diaper it feels the same (except the degree of squishiness after, in which case she prefers the potty).
Anyway, we successfully went potty and I laid Rachel down on her little mat so that I could empty the potty and wash my hands. While I was doing so I heard her ravenously sucking away at something. Expecting her to be sucking on her hand or foot, I turned around to see what she was up to.
She had flipped onto her stomach and was latched onto the floor! She had a nice clean seal, with her lips suctioned perfectly to the floor, and was sucking away. I didn't think that would be possible, but apparently it is if you're really hungry, which Rachel was so we went back to bed to finish giving her her breakfast.
After she had finished eating she looked at me, completely satisfied, and then started to drift off for her usual post-feeding shuteye, a slight smile gracing her face. Her relaxation was again interrupted by a coughing fit and, lucky for me, because she had just finished eating I was directly in her line of fire.
Cough, cough, BLAH!
She vomited up the entirety of her breakfast all over me, herself, and the towel that I had covering up the previous mess.
So Andrew ran into the bedroom and helped change Rachel while I changed myself...again. My third outfit of the day by 8 AM. I told Andrew, "If she does this again I'm going to call the doctor." I'm so worried that she'll get dehydrated or something but don't want to be one of those overreacting mothers.
As soon as she was back in my arms she wanted to eat again; she was still hungry, having missed out on two feedings already. It's been about a half hour since she ate and she's coughed a few times and has kept everything in her tummy, so I think she'll be alright. I hope she gets over this soon!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Immunity of steel
Does anyone else feel like they were dealt the sick card while their husband always seems to be able to discard that one? I swear, I've been sick since Christmas, with it all coming to a head with a pretty nasty sinus infection this week. I've been through a sore throat, a bad cough, congestion, achiness - the whole nine yards. Meanwhile, Taber has been the picture of perfect health. I am mostly astonished that even though being surrounded by all those germs, he's been able to avoid getting sick. I mean, we sleep in the same bed and we kiss. You can't tell me he wasn't exposed to the same germs that made me sick. This has led me to wonder why this could be.
1) Heavenly Father planned it that way. He knew it would be the husband (more often than not) that would have to go out and work to make a living for his family so he couldn't be getting sick all the time and missing said work. On the other hand, the wife would be at home (more often than not) so would be able to rest and recover more effectively than the husband (even though it's not very easy to recover while tending to the needs of another human being). I say "more often than not" because I know there are househusbands and working wives. In which case I would wonder if the immunities are switched?
OR
2) Women get sick more often because they are (more often than not) wearing themselves out by caring for other people rather than tending to their own needs. Men out there, this is not to say that you don't work hard. Just in general, I think women tend to lack in the sleep department more than their counterparts. And I heard this week that fatigue basically invites sickness.
What are your thoughts? Who gets sick most often in your house? Have you noticed this trend in your marriage as well, or are we just a singular case? If it is the same in your house, why do you think this is?
1) Heavenly Father planned it that way. He knew it would be the husband (more often than not) that would have to go out and work to make a living for his family so he couldn't be getting sick all the time and missing said work. On the other hand, the wife would be at home (more often than not) so would be able to rest and recover more effectively than the husband (even though it's not very easy to recover while tending to the needs of another human being). I say "more often than not" because I know there are househusbands and working wives. In which case I would wonder if the immunities are switched?
OR
2) Women get sick more often because they are (more often than not) wearing themselves out by caring for other people rather than tending to their own needs. Men out there, this is not to say that you don't work hard. Just in general, I think women tend to lack in the sleep department more than their counterparts. And I heard this week that fatigue basically invites sickness.
What are your thoughts? Who gets sick most often in your house? Have you noticed this trend in your marriage as well, or are we just a singular case? If it is the same in your house, why do you think this is?
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