(In order to
simplify things, I will give kids fictitious names rather than just describe
them in each blog. I’ll keep the same names to identify them and link to other
posts involving them, just to make things more interesting for you, the
reader.)
I suppose I asked for it.
I had been feeling progressively worse throughout the night, working on getting stuff done in my apartment on my nights off. I'd gotten my batch cooking done for the week, but really hadn't felt up to cleaning the kitchen. And then I absolutely HAD to go to the laundromat as I had waited too long last week and of course the laundromat was closed Christmas day.
So it was with great effort that I dragged myself and my huge load down to my car and then to the laundromat. As I was feeling so bad, I found a seat away from everyone and was just trying to get through it all. As I was waiting for my second load to finish, it happened as I had feared. In a flash I was over the trash can losing the contents of my stomach. Some kind, concerned people offered help and I was brought something to clean my face off. I felt a bit better afterward, but I still had to get my clothes dried before I could go home. I went and sat out in my car as it seemed sitting in a cooler environment was helping.
The following 24 hours are a misery I'd rather not relive.
But like I said, I suppose I asked for it.
Saturday night I arrived to work to find "Opie" sitting on the floor and staff was taking his temperature. I found out Opie had thrown up a little before this. I was further informed that all 5 boys were feeling sick as well. After having his temperature taken, Opie just stayed laid out on the floor, not wanting to get up. I told him he should go lay in his bed since he was sick. It was then that he revealed he wasn't going to his bed because that's where he had thrown up. So I said "why didn't you say so?" and proceeded to go clean his bed and get him fresh bedding.
When I was finished, Opie was appreciative but had to go throw up in the bathroom again. Before returning to his bed he was complaining how he just felt like dying. Heartless bastard that I was being, I made my standard joke about "dying is not allowed my my shift. Too much paperwork." Opie has a habit of being overly dramatic, and so perhaps that may explain a bit of my insensitivity, but still I imagine he just felt like I was being flippant about his suffering.
No sooner had I gotten Opie squared away but "Carter" got up and asked to shower because he had messed himself. He got to the bathroom before I was able to bring him a towel, and it wasn't until I brought him a towel that I realized he hadn't wet himself but had suffered diarrhea. Poor little dude. I suppose I was feeling a little more compassionate by this time, seeing more suffering.
So an hour into my shift I was finally done helping two of our sick kids get all cleaned up and back to bed.
Throughout the night I had a chance to interact with the other three, "Billy," who was feeling all better, "Bart," who had to get up several times and was looking like death warmed over, and finally "Vlad," who woke up screaming from a terrible nightmare and then was telling me how bad his stomach felt.
You'd better believe, after experiencing what my little guys at work had been going through I will be personally apologizing to each (especially Opie) for my lack of sensitivity.
I suppose I asked for it.
I had been feeling progressively worse throughout the night, working on getting stuff done in my apartment on my nights off. I'd gotten my batch cooking done for the week, but really hadn't felt up to cleaning the kitchen. And then I absolutely HAD to go to the laundromat as I had waited too long last week and of course the laundromat was closed Christmas day.
So it was with great effort that I dragged myself and my huge load down to my car and then to the laundromat. As I was feeling so bad, I found a seat away from everyone and was just trying to get through it all. As I was waiting for my second load to finish, it happened as I had feared. In a flash I was over the trash can losing the contents of my stomach. Some kind, concerned people offered help and I was brought something to clean my face off. I felt a bit better afterward, but I still had to get my clothes dried before I could go home. I went and sat out in my car as it seemed sitting in a cooler environment was helping.
The following 24 hours are a misery I'd rather not relive.
But like I said, I suppose I asked for it.
Saturday night I arrived to work to find "Opie" sitting on the floor and staff was taking his temperature. I found out Opie had thrown up a little before this. I was further informed that all 5 boys were feeling sick as well. After having his temperature taken, Opie just stayed laid out on the floor, not wanting to get up. I told him he should go lay in his bed since he was sick. It was then that he revealed he wasn't going to his bed because that's where he had thrown up. So I said "why didn't you say so?" and proceeded to go clean his bed and get him fresh bedding.
When I was finished, Opie was appreciative but had to go throw up in the bathroom again. Before returning to his bed he was complaining how he just felt like dying. Heartless bastard that I was being, I made my standard joke about "dying is not allowed my my shift. Too much paperwork." Opie has a habit of being overly dramatic, and so perhaps that may explain a bit of my insensitivity, but still I imagine he just felt like I was being flippant about his suffering.
No sooner had I gotten Opie squared away but "Carter" got up and asked to shower because he had messed himself. He got to the bathroom before I was able to bring him a towel, and it wasn't until I brought him a towel that I realized he hadn't wet himself but had suffered diarrhea. Poor little dude. I suppose I was feeling a little more compassionate by this time, seeing more suffering.
So an hour into my shift I was finally done helping two of our sick kids get all cleaned up and back to bed.
Throughout the night I had a chance to interact with the other three, "Billy," who was feeling all better, "Bart," who had to get up several times and was looking like death warmed over, and finally "Vlad," who woke up screaming from a terrible nightmare and then was telling me how bad his stomach felt.
You'd better believe, after experiencing what my little guys at work had been going through I will be personally apologizing to each (especially Opie) for my lack of sensitivity.
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