Bugged

You know it's not a good day when Fellow Traveler, the University of Michigan's most ardent fan, takes to her bed at the beginning of the game.

FT woke up in the middle of the night with nausea and a gutache. She was marginally functional in the morning, but after attempting soup for lunch she threw up again, and decided to go back to bed.

We are desperately hoping that this isn't the H1N1 virus, since neither of us has had the opportunity to get vaccinated for it yet. (We did get our standard flu shots back in September.) FT wondered if she could have possibly picked up the bug at the emergency room the other night when she had to have the sliver in her toe removed. Because of her ostomy, she has to be careful avoiding influenza, especially the barfy/diahrrhea-y strains; aside from the misery these symptoms cause in someone who's missing a significant chunk of her gastrointestinal system, the potential for dehydration and inability to take in nutrients has all sorts of negative implications for maintaining a healthy electrolyte balance. (We travel with gallons of V-8 juice, which is loaded with potassium and other important minerals -- more than sports drinks or other fortified foods/beverages.)

We reviewed our diet over the last couple of days. The only food she has eaten that I haven't was chili sauce on a couple of coney dogs we ordered for takeout yesterday. She didn't eat anything that might cause a blockage, a potential problem for ostomates that leads to nausea and stomachache. "It feels like the flu," she explained. "Nothing mechanical. It feels like a bug."

It's a moot point anyway. She's in bed; I'm half-watching the MSU game and wondering what useful household tasks I can accomplish without making annoying noises. Poor Gertie, who picks up on when one of us is sick, is lying next to me with furrowed brow. It's a warm, sunny November Saturday, but it pretty much sucks at our house right now.