I have spent the last week meditating and doing deep breathing exercises to calm my nerves and lower my blood pressure. I am determined that I will stay calm through the wedding preparations. Sherry arrives at my house 5:00 PM Wednesday.
She tries on clothes from my closet to see if we can avoid a shopping trip – no success.
I had asked her to borrow several pair of dress shoes from Mom. Mom told me she had nice ones in black and navy. I get them out and find what appear to be 2 pairs of 20 year old clogs in white and tan, and a pair of dark brown flats – OK - dark brown it is.
She spends the rest of the evening eating, playing on my computer, and lounging in my spot on the couch. I go to bed at 9:00 thinking all is well.
I get up as usual at 3:00 am, wide awake and in a Predisone frenzy. To keep from waking everyone up, I spend a hour or so carrying water from my bath to water my garden, bucket in one hand, flashlight in the other. I decide to start on laundry. When I get to the guys bathroom to get theirs, it looks like a Taco Bell exploded in there. Vomit is running down the walls and pooling in the floor. I look for a body but don’t find one. I have no idea who is sick. I go to bedroom doors and listen for moaning but nothing. It hits me that the person who spent the evening eating everything in site was the likely culprit. I knock on Sherry’s door and ask if she’s sick. She said “I was, but I’m better now.”
Calm down. Assess the situation.
You have no immunity. All your clothes, all modes of communication - phone, computer, have been contaminated. All out panic attack!!!!
Sit down – No!!!! Don’t sit down !!!!!!.
Get the disinfectant wipes and clean the phone, computer and door knobs.
All the wipes are in the vomit.
About this time Sherry yells, “I tried to clean up but you ran out of wipes.”
I get out my gloves and masks. Now I am standing there hyperventilating into a mask. I guess it worked like a paper bag. At least I calmed down.
I get the bathroom cleaned up, the garbage taken out, and everything sprayed down with Lysol.
In my mind I am computing incubation periods for viruses. I expect that it will be hitting me tonight or tomorrow. Sherry is feeling better. We have to go shopping now.
I try not to think about Shawn and Jennifer getting it for the wedding and honeymoon. (The Ultimate Wedding Wilking.)
We found Sherry an outfit – dark brown. She looks really good in it.
After receiving assurances that the house had been thoroughly disinfected, Chris came out to try on his tux. It fits great. He looks fantastic. We are on schedule - All is well with the world again.
Then Shawn informs Chris that he has to dance at the reception – Suddenly he doesn’t look so good – The virus doesn’t sound so bad anymore – Maybe it will rescue him - GRAB A GARBAGE CAN.
Maybe the wedding invitation should have said 'B Y O B'. - Bring Your Own Bucket.
email from Luci
2 comments:
You're right Chris the black is better. Good luck everybody.
Oh my Gosh! I feel really queesy just from reading that story! Aunt Lucie, I too am addicted to lysol wipes. I carry a full size cannister of them in my purse. I am often teased for it. But your story reminded me of an all too familiar incident that i survived when Eli spent the night once. If you've ever seen that movie "Daddy Daycare" with Eddie Murphy. The part when he walks into the bathroom after one of the kids and the "EEK EEK" music is playing and he is looking on the ceiling and in the bathtub and on the walls. Well, i lived through that moment in real life. I think that bathroom still has a hint of bleach smell. Crystal would have gotten a kick out of it because she loves my sensitive gag reflex.
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