Pink Bubblegum...

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Readers beware.....this post is NOT about pink bubblegum and should be read after supper.

I've been fighting this horrible chest cold for about 12 days now.  I have a wicked cough and dry throat, and my back is killing me from the coughing. 

Side track for a minute...I go to the doctor yesterday for blood work results....YAAY! I'm NOT pregnant!! But I do have low iron levels...BOO!!! So she notices I'm sick and asks me if I'm getting better or worse. I say I think I'm getting better, just the back of my lungs are really, really sore, and hurt more when I cough....so she says to be....well is it your lungs or your back muscles??.....Uhm...How the heck am I supposed to know that?!  Who's the doctor, lady? I dunno???  Well, ok then, she says...keep doin' what your doing.  (Buckleys and whining)

Ok, back to the story...Needless to say, I haven't been sleeping well AT ALL!  Hacking my lungs up all night, I'm hot, I'm cold, my throat is dry and tickly.  BLAH!  So this morning I wake up at like 5:30am (who even knew that time existed?!), and I'm wide awake, and I know there's no way I'm falling back to sleep because of my cold.  I've also managed to wake Grace up, so now she's in my room looking at me like "Whatchoo Talkin' About Willis?"....So I decide to be a good mommy and offer to cook her breakfast.  Eggs and toast usually only happens on the weekend so, of course, this is a special treat and she'll all excited. 

We come downstairs stairs and I rock out the scrambled eggs and toast. I'm drinking Body By Vi shakes at the moment so I whipped up a strawberry shake for breakfast. YUM!  I drink my shake, get ready for work and leave to go to Tim's for my morning coffee...All in an (usual) timely fashion...I'm EARLY! 

I'm cruising across the bridge, bobbing my head to Flo Rida and another coughing fit hits me.  So like a lady...I put my hand to my mouth to cough....and end up with a handful of vomit instead.  Pink Bubblegum colored vomit (Yummmmmy Strawberry shake!!).  I have no clue what happened, it all happened so fast.  I am NOTa vomiter at all. I hate doing it, it's listed up there in my top 5 fears. In the event it's about to happen I have a plan and a process...

1. Clean the bathroom floor
2. Clean the toilet
3. Cry
4. Lay down a towel in front of the toilet
5. Get a wet face cloth
6. Cry
7. Get a glass of water ready
8. Take my shirt off
9. Pull my hair back into an elastic if not already done
10. Cry
11. Brace myself
12. Cry
13. Vomit
14. Cry
15. Lay on the bathroom floor until my mother rescues me...which could be a long time considering she's three hours away from me.

So, as you can see, my process was not completed.  I skipped right to step 13 (unlucky number thirteen!!)....and I do not like messing with my process.   I can literally count on my hands how many vomit sessions I've had since my early teen years and out of those, maybe only three times has it been uncontrolled.  I would rather die a slow death than just let it out. I'm like a reverse-bulimic.  Shit, maybe that's why I'm not losing weight?! I've been doing it wrong all these years!
(OMG, innappropriate, I know...I'm sick, don't judge me)

Somehow, in between "whhoooa, sometimes I get a good feeling" and "I get a feeling that I never, ever, ever had before"........I ended up with a lap full of pink bubblegum puke that's all over my hands and face like I just made out with some foamy ice cream. (I warned you at the beginning)

I'm am beyond mortified, still trying to drive, thoroughly confused as to what the hell just happened, and then I realize....I'm in bumper to bumper traffic.  Who just saw me puke pink foam?!?  EMBARRASING!!  I don't even have it in me at this point to look over to either side of me to check. I'm sure at least one person got an eye full. I'm on the inside lane so there's a car to my right, and two cars to my left going in the opposite direction. But we're all going sooo slow. And I'm not even to the middle of the bridge yet.  My "clean" hand is on the wheel, my other hand is dripping, I can feel some dangling from my chin, and I have no clue what to do.  I'm crying, gagging, and trying not to laugh all at once. 

So what did I do...I drove all the way to work (another 5-6 mins)...with vomit dripping everywhere cause I was in such shock of what just happened that I didn't know what to do and pulling over never came to my mind.  I pull into the parking lot. Shut the car off, grab a random napkin on the floor, and wipe my chin.  It's amazing how small a napkin is when it's the only thing saving your face from pink vomit.  The napkin is a right-off and I still have it all over one hand, my lap, and now it's dripping down the side of my seat and the front towards the ground.  Thankfully, I have been known to rock a messy car from time to time so I found a facecloth left over from yoga class. I managed to make due, and got myself cleaned up enough to not be "covered in vomit".

Now what?  I call Todd and asked if he could please just bring me a change of clothes. I'm not even sure what went thru his head cause "hey honey, I just puked on myself and need new pants" isn't a typical conversation for us.  He asks me "which pants?" and it's all I can do to not scream "ANY PAIR WITHOUT PUKE"....at this point I would take pyjama bottoms.

Phew, ok, he's on his way.   So I sit there like a five year old waiting for her mommy to pick her up from school when she's sick.  Please, please, hurry up, and please, please no more vomit! As I'm waiting for him to show up, I have another thought...I still have to find a way to change my pants?  Uhm...not like I can do it in the middle of the parking lot. He shows up, gives me my pants, and is kind of looking at me with a hint of sympathy and a lot of "uh, what should I do now?".  I grab my pants, say goodbye and strategically hold my purse over the wet spots on my pants as I shuffle into the building and rush towards the bathroom. Thankfully, there's one right at the entrance so I didn't have far to go.  I go into the wheelchair washroom and lock myself in. Chill...there's no people in actual wheelchairs at work so it wasn't like stealing their parking spot or anything.

I strip down naked, use the crappy, brown paper towels and hand soap to give myself a sponge-bath, and then get changed into my new clothes. Now, I'm standing there with wet pants, no bag to put them in, and no desire to take them back out to my car for the day. So I do what every sane person would do and just throw them in the garbage and run like hell back upstairs to my office. They were getting too big anyway. (thank you Body By Vi!)

I have no clue why I threw up, seriously I'm NOT pregnant, and it didn't happen again (yet?!).  All I know is for the rest of the day anytime I coughed I was so paranoid that it hurt even more than usual to cough...blah.

It may be a few days before I live this one down at work, and likely another few more before I eat a strawberry shake again.