Gastroenteritis a.k.a. Stomach Flu a.k.a. (enter swear words here).

Yesterday was a hellish day for me....I'll go back a bit. On Dec 27th, I was feeling grumpy and lethargic. Michael wasn't feeling so hot himself as he was getting over some mild food poisioning(or so we thought-turns out that he had the stomach flu too, but it was going down, not up).

Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night of the 28th feeling nauseous and paid a visit to the porcelain god...there went the lasagna. Ok, I thought that was it and went to bed. I woke up again and returned to the porcelain god....and again....and again....by 9am, I couldn't take it anymore and begged Michael to take me to the hospital. Got there at 10am, and got ready to wait. Not too many people around, should take, what? 2 hours?

3 or 4 hours later(1-2 pm), I ask where I am in line. 3 people. Okay, shouldn't be too much longer, right?

6.5 hours later(4:30pm), I ask where I am in line. 2-3 people. WTF? I saw people with kids come in and be seen right away. I understand that; I have a child and would cut off my hand if it meant that she could cut the line ahead of someone else with a runny nose. But, my baby happens to be -5 weeks old. I'm 2 people, and haven't had any liquids all, and concerned for her more than myself. Needless to day, I started bawling in front of the nurse and went back to my seat. I called Michael and went on a rant. He suggested drinking a lot of water so I would start to throw up again, but this time to aim for the floor. That made me cry more as it hurt so much the last time. 5 minutes later, the nurse calls me in to see what she can do for me in the meantime. Got some Pedialyte with apple juice and instructions on how to drink it.

7.5 hours later (5:30pm), I see the doctor. No IV to replace the fluids, even though I insisted. Seriously, if you're told to drink 1 ounce (30ml) every 15 minutes, how the heck am I supposed to replace 2 litres of liquids that I'm supposed to drink every day? And why are they talking to me like I should already know what to do?

8.5 hours later (6:30), I follow up at the nurse's station. No vomiting(which means no IV, but I am so sick of looking at the walls of the waiting room, I don't care anymore), so can I please check out?

9 hours later (7pm), Michael pulls up and I get to go home!

I'm feeling much better this morning, but anything's got to be better than what I went through yesterday!

Moral of the story? Don't kiss your husband when he is sick!

PS-The people that helped me were great; it must not be fun to be understaffed and overworked and have to deal with people like me all day. I did say my pleases and thank yous and was appreciative when they helped.