The Bathroom Floor

I rarely get a stomach bug. In fact, the last time I threw up was Christmas of 2008 (when I had another stomach bug.) Even though I'm around teenagers every day (whose parents send them to school with everything under the sun) I'm pretty healthy.

Not this week.

A strange stomach flu has circled the Las Vegas area over the past two months or so. I'd heard rumors and whispers of its vile consequences at church, school, and through the family grape vine. My sisters, brother AJ, and their kids have all had it in one degree or another. I assumed my little family and I were immune.


Alas, I was wrong.

I have never spent an entire night on a bathroom floor before. As a kid I stayed in bed and barfed into a yellow bucket my mom put next to my bed. (She knew I'd never make it to the toilet.) Well, I spent the night next to a toilet this week, not once, but twice.

Like all stomach bugs, it hits you in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep and there is no one to comfort you. We're in Duck Creek, Utah, at the family cabin for a reunion this week. My hubby returned to Vegas for work the afternoon of my sickness. The family cabin was full of my siblings and their kids, but I couldn't bear to wake anyone.

So I sat on the carpeted floor of what we call the "new" bathroom (my parents added on a much needed wing to the cabin several years back) where no one could hear me cry or vomit. But strangely enough, I didn't feel alone.

I prayed for help---for my Heavenly Father to comfort me. I know it sounds strange and I'm a faithful person and all, but even I was amazed to feel His arm around me, holding me up, telling me I could get through this. I felt like I was going to die, but I knew I was going to be okay. So while I heaved more times than I dared to count and was left feeling weak and tired physically, my spirit was strengthened.

Then the bug struck again.

Last night I spent most of the night on the bathroom floor with my little man, J. No child should have to go through that kind of thing alone. He was a trooper. I shared him my experience of being alone and sick earlier in the week and praying for help. He was sad I didn't wake him up for help. (Going through this himself, I think he was horrified I didn't have anyone to help me.)

I told J that someday he and I would look back on this night and laugh about it; that it was a bonding moment for us to go through the same thing and spend time together talking in the middle of the night on the bathroom floor. He gave me a strange look. Maybe someday he'll understand.

Copyright 2011 Corrina L. Terry

Photo credit: http://www.porcelainpoetry.faketrix.com/funny-toilet-signs-washroom-humor-toilets-signs.htm