Sick Boy

Elliot.  Poor Elliot.  He is a sick boy.  He has a terrible stomach bug.  A stomach bug that I'm hoping he doesn't share.  It's a bad one.

He started vomiting at midnight last night, and then he vomited every 20 minutes until the sun came up.  It. was. bad.

He was so miserable all day today.  We finally went to the doctor at 11.  By that time his vomiting had slowed to every hour.  Ugh.  The doctor gave him some medicine to stop the nausea.  Thankfully, the medicine was fast-acting.  He hasn't thrown up since.  And he has even kept some saltines and Gatorade down.

After our trek to the doctor, Elliot was feeling so exhausted and yucky and wanted nothing more than to get back on the couch and go to sleep.  We were getting home just in time before he melted down completely.  But to our disappointment, my garage door opener wouldn't work.  It wouldn't work!  And I didn't have a key to the house.  We were locked out.

I quickly devised a plan:  first, stop at my dear neighbor's house to see if she has any saltines; second, drive 10 minutes away to the battery store and get a new battery for the garage door opener; third, rush home and put the miserable boy on the couch.

My dear neighbor had saltines!!  And she even had some Sprite for Elliot to try!  Bless her!

The battery store had the right battery!  The nice man installed it for me, and only charged me $7.77!  I handed over my credit card, explaining that I would have paid WAY MORE than that at this point!  That lifesaver is definitely going on the Christmas card list for next year!

I ran (yes, I literally ran -- my sick boy was counting on me to hurry!) to the car and rushed home.  As we pulled up in the driveway and watched with relief as the garage door opened, Elliot had reached his limit.  He. was. miserable!

But he was home.  And he's been on the couch ever since.

And now we wait and we pray until we learn if the stomach bug is done with Elliot and if it's going to stick around our house or not.  Let's hope the mean ol bug makes his way down the street instead!  I mean, not to my dear neighbor's house, of course. . . .