life with a boy: part 4.5

Time for a little redemption.

Back in the fall I posted about the most horrible tragedy on earth also known as, "when a boy gets sick".  Well, the tables turned this weekend and this was our first extremely true test of: Laurel the patient and Collin the caregiver.

And I must say, all those things I wrote about back in October were {oh so!} true but totally redeemable after this weekend.

You see, we had Saturday plans...plans that included friends in town, a house, backyard and backporch that had to be cleaned...and oh yeah a backyard crawfish boil for about 20 friends at our house.  I love a party and I love entertaining so this wasn't really "work" for me...we do stuff like this often.

So, around 9:00 am Friday morning a freaked out FedEx man delivered 40 lbs of live crawdaddies that stunk up filled up our fridge and were the most high maintenace little multi-legged fellas I've ever seen as they had to be "watered" every hour or so to keep them alive.  I was excited about the sunny, fun Saturday we had planned but I was over those jokers by about 10:53 am on Friday.

Friday night was good, Charlsie and Brad came over from some porch time, our friend was in town, we went to the grocery, laid low and Collin grilled out for dinner.  Bedtime by 11pm. So far so good.

7am on Saturday morning I woke up with tumbling tummy.  I couldn't quite nail what was going on but it honestly felt like a good ole fashioned stomach ache like you have when your a kid; and I was confident it would pass.  Collin suggested I sleep a little later then shower and I should feel better, surely! At 10am the rumbling and tumbling proceeds and protrudes in the worst of ways.  I was in awful pain, sweats, and multipe trips to the bathroom. Collin freaks out a little and wants to call my mom about 4 times but I encourage him to not worry her, yet.  He goes and gets me gingerale, wet washcloths and sends an SOS to my girlfriend Falon who promptly comes over to help with me and everything else.

I will not let them cancel the crawfish boil, mainly because I wanted those Crawfish gone and I didn't want them to sit around at the foot of my bed miserable, wondering and worried all day. I {unlike most males} can't stand attention when I'm sick, mainly because being sick ticks me off so bad anyway. They anticpated me coming back to life before this gig started but that didn't happen, not even close...it only got worse. 

And I wanted my mama...y'all know when you get to that point and you really just want your mom?? {um, or maybe that's just me, yikes}.  So I made the call and of course the tears came so hard I could hardly talk...she told me what to get to knock myself out and another friend was able to help.  At that point, I thought I was probably dying so I thank Wynne and that lil pill for saving my life. 

Fal said Collin asked her about 14 times if he should just take me to the hospital and the phone conversation he had with my mom {unbeknownst to me at the time} will damn near break your heart.  After I woke up and felt a gajillion times better {relatively speaking} he wanted to remake and fluff the bed because it would defintley feel better and suggested I come outside to get some fresh air {oh and that I should probably put on a hat cause my hair was out of control ;)}  Needless to say, forgetting that what was in the air was the smell of crawfish and low country boil was not necessarily "on point"...but I stuck it out for about 20 minutes until I couldn't hold my head up any longer.

Sunday I felt better but was mush...no energy, no appetite, you know the drill but that ole Collin was good as gold {even though he was probably over me!} 

So...while it is true that we're 1-1 in caregiving status, I have to give him the credit due for the sometimes trying cirucumstances that are all part of the package we girls signed up for called: "life with a boy".