Saturday, January 26, 2019

The hits keep coming, and the hack I use to clean up vomit.

I promise this will be the last time I write about misfortune in January.

My son, who was so sick on Wednesday night, eventually fell asleep around 4am after hours of wretching. We stayed home on Thursday, and he was running circles around me, eating whatever he desired and keeping it way, way down. On Friday, he went to school. On Saturday, we decided to keep plans for a play date with his BFF. He had been so excited all week for this play date, and on Friday I even let his friend's mom know that he hadn't been well. I put it in her hands if she'd still like us to come over, and she said sure. Because he was fine, right?

So we arrive at the play date this morning. We cross the threshold of the home and the family greets all of us. And my son says good morning so politely and then...coughs. A few more coughs come out and I realize, he is gagging. And then he vomits everywhere. 

I was taking on what I assumed would be my son's embarrassment: my face flushed and I held my hands over my mouth. My son, in fact not embarrassed, stood around like it was no big deal (it really wasn't; no one made him feel bad - are these friends of ours beautiful people or what?). He was sad when we left, and I was amazed that yet again, for the fifth isolated time in January 2019, one of my two children had vomited.

I am the designated vomit cleaner in my partnership. My husband will not clean it up (unless it's in a car and he rules at that, so...). After I got norovirus when I was seven months pregnant with my daughter, I decided that I needed to get smarter about cleaning vomit if I was ever going to survive the preschool/daycare years. I am ridiculous about cleaning it now!  I always come back to the CDC:
When you are sick with norovirus, you can shed billions of virus particles in your vomit and poop. It only takes a few of these particles to make someone sick. (source)
Yes, the CDC said poop. Just like that. Poop.

I approach cleaning this stuff up like I can SEE these particles. After a vomit, I strip my children and quarantine any linens or clothing they might have puked on. This stuff goes outside the house, and when I can hose it off I will, even if it means the following day. If, after a vomit, they wipe their mouth on a towel hanging in the bathroom -- poof, it goes too. I bleach everything they touch and even things they haven't touched. I take all trash outside immediately. I don't want those particles hanging around! Toothbrushes go bye-bye. If they take a drink, I make sure the cup is soaped up and cleaned up ASAP and then I bring in any disposable cups if I have some leftover from a party. Usually, I do. Then I tell my kids that it's OK to throw up on the floor, but I beg them to make their next pukes in the toilet. They always do. They are amazing. And then, for the next weeks upon weeks, because norovirus lives in the guts for up to a month, I beg them to wash their hands. I insist. Because after the vomiting is over, then there's the poop particles. Oh my, I don't have to tell you about those.

I know, I cannot see particles. But this hack has really helped me keep my hands out of my mouth and off my face until the threat is over and we can go back on living. I wash my hands so often during an "outbreak" that they crack and bleed. Friend, it is worth it. Since my pregnancy in 2013, I have not fallen to norovirus. And my kids have indeed "brought it home" at least once a year since.

And I tried to LAUGH today, but it was fake and I was ashamed of myself.

No comments:

Post a Comment