Time to try and catch up. Lowe bounced back completely the next day and you’d have never known he was sick, unless you realized just how pale his color still was. Doctor’s orders have him signed up to return to the hospital daily for a big ugly shot in the butt.

Ouest and I spent the morning walking around town, eating tacos, and shopping for prescriptions.

So Ali took him in for that shot, then returned home and went straight to sleep while Ouest was already napping. When Ouest woke up I told her we needed to be nice and quiet so Lowe could sleep. As we sat down in the kitchen to paint she told me she was sick too. “Me sick.”

“Sick? No you’re okay.” I totally ignored her as I thought she must just be looking for a little of the attention that Lowe had been getting. I then ran into the other room to grab something.

Seconds later, blehhh. Paints were covered in puke.

Ali, who had been laying down trying to catch up on a little sleep, came out and told me she was really feeling like crap too. Then the smell hit her and she ran for the bathroom. Blehhh.

And on it went for the next few hours. Ali and Ouest taking turns puking up everything in their systems. The house smelled awful. But Lowe didn’t care and in the midst of it there he and I were sitting at the table having dinner.

Cartoons went on, Ouest laid motionless, Ali kept stumbling between the couch and the bathroom, and I scrambled about trying to keep buckets empty, Lowe entertained, and the doctor informed.

We finally reached the point that it was time to bring Ouest into the hospital. Ali probably could have used a trip too, but we couldn’t drag Lowe out again and there was no way Ali and Ouest could go out alone.

At the hospital the new diagnosis was confirmed. It was pretty obvious once three-fourths of the family was puking that food poisoning was the culprit here.

Ouest got the same big shot in the butt which once it kicked in would keep the nausea away so that she’d be able to start taking in liquids again. We were sent home with the warning that if she still couldn’t drink anything we’d have to go back.

Ouest was a trooper through the whole thing. Never cried all day long. Just sort of passively accepted her puking racked body. Even the shot, with me having to pin her down on the table only elicited a quick cry from the pain. And believe me this was no little prick of a shot, this was a big needle ten-seconds of vile emptying shot. What lifted her spirits most was riding home in the taxi at night. She is almost never out after dark so for her this was a whole new world. She smiled the whole way home.

I put her to bed and for the next two hours she didn’t sleep. She just called for me every three minutes. When I went in she’d say, “Me thirsty.” And I’d tell her I understood but that she had to go slowly. Just a few sips here and there, but to go to sleep and I’d come in and give her a drink every hour. She didn’t understand this at all. She just wanted to suck down a bottle of water. She finally crashed for good at midnight.

Ali slept and started to come around a bit on her own. Still felt like crap, but could function.

A few hours later, about four a.m., I knew it was my turn. Around six I threw up. But that turned out to be it for me that day. My problem instead was a migraine. For the next few hours I couldn’t stand to open my eyes the pain was so bad.

Ouest took that picture of me and Lowe. Pretty good huh? She took 71 pictures while messing around, 68 of her fingers, 2 of her princess plate, and this one. Captured my mood perfectly.

In the afternoon we took the kids for their shots. Lowe knew what was coming this time and immediately started crying. Ouest and I waited her turn outside and she kept asking me, “Why Lowe cry?”

When it was her turn she walked in the room and started taking off her pants all by herself. All gung ho. She laid on the table fine, but when the nurse took a few seconds too long getting the needle ready Ouest started to feel the pressure.

“Me hungry now Papa. Me hungry now.” As in, can we please get the hell out of here this second and get something to eat instead.

She wailed when that shot went in. Not because of the shot itself but how long the shot took. It’s like a ten second plunger on that thing. Brutal. And afterwards she couldn’t sit on her butt. So back at home she stood up to eat ice cream and then laid on her stomach to eat lunch.

Lowe, Ouest, and even Ali despite not feeling fifty percent, got through the day just fine. And a few hours later I was able to make my way slowly through it as well. Ali and I were both grateful for seven o’clock however. Kids in bed, feeling good. Us in bed feeling utterly exhausted.

This morning it looks like we’ve all made it through and can start living normal life again. Aside from those nasty shots the kids still need for a couple more days.