So I had this nice blog entry typed out and ready to post and all of the sudden my mouse completely froze. (Damn wireless mice). So I decide to use my arrow keys to close out the application and the damn thing deleted my entire freaking post. It was a good one too and yes... I'm pissed. A perfect ending to a crazy night right? So here was my day.
I get up and take my truck to the dealership because there was a recall on the camshaft sensor. There was also a recall some time ago on the cruise control switch but I can't find the paperwork. I talk to the lady on the phone and she says she sees where they recalled it and it would be no problem to fix. I get to the dealership and the jack off behind the counter says in his Droopy D voice... "I can't find the recall on thaaaaaat so you'll... um.... have to pay $95 for us to diagnose the problem and then it will be... um... additional to fix the problem." I tell him I already know what the problem is. The cruise control sticks and there is a recall on the switch. He says he can't find the recall... fucker. So while I had no problem finding the recall online when I got home, and the lady at the dealership had no problem finding it in the database, this little pencil dick couldn't find it so he wouldn't fix it. That's a man for ya.
My husband and I go get lunch, go home and hang out for a bit. I read another 500 pages of psychology, he goes to work, and I decide to go to the barn...
I get to the barn, have a wonderful ride, redressed Marilyn's leg, and go home to do some more damn psychology work. I talked with my mom for a bit. (Yes my husband and I live with my mother. My stepfather died of colo-rectal cancer last year and my mom's bills were too much for her to pay on her own. We rented out our house and moved in with her).
Then the shit literally hit the fan. I'm upstairs typing away on a paper and my mom screams... literally SCREAMS for me. She had gone to bed about an hour before so you can imagine my alarm. I go flying down the stairs. Did y'all know I could fly? I made the first 10 steps without a problem. But for some reason I tripped down the last 15 and hit the tile HARD. I don't like flying anymore.
I run into her bedroom yelling "what's the matter?" I find her sitting on the toilet shaking uncontrollably. She's yelling "Help! Help! Help! Now this is not a humorous situation in the least. However, you have to understand something about me. I am scared to death of vomit. I can't see it, smell it, hear someone doing it, etc., or I panic and barf all over the place. So here is my poor mother, sicker than a dog, sitting on the toilet with her head in a trash can barfing her brains out, and all my pathetic ass can do is run out of the room to get a cold wash cloth and a fan. After running in and out of the bathroom several times between her heaving noises, I finally successfully plug in the fan. I ask her what speed she wants it on and she just barfs again. So I blast it and run out of the room again gagging! (Thinking, when I'm sick I like lots of cool air). Seems reasonable right? Ahhhh.... my poor mother. So now she is colder than shit, shaking, and barfing. I hear her stop and I run back in and turn off the fan. She is now laying on the floor. She's still shaking. I'm panicking. Thinking... should I call the squad? Yup, that's me... when it comes to vomiting for no apparent reason and shaking uncontrollably... all my dumbass can think of is calling the squad. Great motherly instincts right? Apparently, when it comes to vomit, I lose all ability to reason or think clearly. Poor mom. I couldn't even hold her hair for her. I feel so bad. I already feel sorry for my unborn children because there is no way in hell you can get me to go within five feet of puke. I can't even clean up dog vomit for cryin' out loud.
So now that we have determined that I am completely worthless to anyone that is vomiting, feels like they are going to vomit, or looks like they are going to vomit; I can at least say this. I managed to stomach all of this, get her out of the bathroom, get her cleaned up, back in bed, sat with her until she was ready to go back to sleep, and gave her a Phenergan. I admit I gagged a little, but I didn't throw up. Thank God, because if I had then there would have been nothing I could do to help her. I am the biggest baby in the world when I throw up. So apparently I'm not THAT bad of a daughter right? Poor mom and her vomit-a-phobe daughter. At least we have my husband. He is man enough to hold both of our hair back when we are sick. Too bad he's working tonight. It's sad when your hubby has more "mommy" skills than you do. LOL!
So all is well in the house now. I just checked on mom and she is fine. It must have been what she had for dinner. I'm not sure because I didn't look in the trash can to find out.
On an equine related note; Gertie and I went to our second show of the season last weekend and completed our Showmanship ROM. We now have 15 points in just two shows. Pretty spiffy if you ask me. It was a good show but it was colder than a witch's titty outside. I just hope we can keep up with the success we've had so far.
I get up and take my truck to the dealership because there was a recall on the camshaft sensor. There was also a recall some time ago on the cruise control switch but I can't find the paperwork. I talk to the lady on the phone and she says she sees where they recalled it and it would be no problem to fix. I get to the dealership and the jack off behind the counter says in his Droopy D voice... "I can't find the recall on thaaaaaat so you'll... um.... have to pay $95 for us to diagnose the problem and then it will be... um... additional to fix the problem." I tell him I already know what the problem is. The cruise control sticks and there is a recall on the switch. He says he can't find the recall... fucker. So while I had no problem finding the recall online when I got home, and the lady at the dealership had no problem finding it in the database, this little pencil dick couldn't find it so he wouldn't fix it. That's a man for ya.
My husband and I go get lunch, go home and hang out for a bit. I read another 500 pages of psychology, he goes to work, and I decide to go to the barn...
I get to the barn, have a wonderful ride, redressed Marilyn's leg, and go home to do some more damn psychology work. I talked with my mom for a bit. (Yes my husband and I live with my mother. My stepfather died of colo-rectal cancer last year and my mom's bills were too much for her to pay on her own. We rented out our house and moved in with her).
Then the shit literally hit the fan. I'm upstairs typing away on a paper and my mom screams... literally SCREAMS for me. She had gone to bed about an hour before so you can imagine my alarm. I go flying down the stairs. Did y'all know I could fly? I made the first 10 steps without a problem. But for some reason I tripped down the last 15 and hit the tile HARD. I don't like flying anymore.
I run into her bedroom yelling "what's the matter?" I find her sitting on the toilet shaking uncontrollably. She's yelling "Help! Help! Help! Now this is not a humorous situation in the least. However, you have to understand something about me. I am scared to death of vomit. I can't see it, smell it, hear someone doing it, etc., or I panic and barf all over the place. So here is my poor mother, sicker than a dog, sitting on the toilet with her head in a trash can barfing her brains out, and all my pathetic ass can do is run out of the room to get a cold wash cloth and a fan. After running in and out of the bathroom several times between her heaving noises, I finally successfully plug in the fan. I ask her what speed she wants it on and she just barfs again. So I blast it and run out of the room again gagging! (Thinking, when I'm sick I like lots of cool air). Seems reasonable right? Ahhhh.... my poor mother. So now she is colder than shit, shaking, and barfing. I hear her stop and I run back in and turn off the fan. She is now laying on the floor. She's still shaking. I'm panicking. Thinking... should I call the squad? Yup, that's me... when it comes to vomiting for no apparent reason and shaking uncontrollably... all my dumbass can think of is calling the squad. Great motherly instincts right? Apparently, when it comes to vomit, I lose all ability to reason or think clearly. Poor mom. I couldn't even hold her hair for her. I feel so bad. I already feel sorry for my unborn children because there is no way in hell you can get me to go within five feet of puke. I can't even clean up dog vomit for cryin' out loud.
So now that we have determined that I am completely worthless to anyone that is vomiting, feels like they are going to vomit, or looks like they are going to vomit; I can at least say this. I managed to stomach all of this, get her out of the bathroom, get her cleaned up, back in bed, sat with her until she was ready to go back to sleep, and gave her a Phenergan. I admit I gagged a little, but I didn't throw up. Thank God, because if I had then there would have been nothing I could do to help her. I am the biggest baby in the world when I throw up. So apparently I'm not THAT bad of a daughter right? Poor mom and her vomit-a-phobe daughter. At least we have my husband. He is man enough to hold both of our hair back when we are sick. Too bad he's working tonight. It's sad when your hubby has more "mommy" skills than you do. LOL!
So all is well in the house now. I just checked on mom and she is fine. It must have been what she had for dinner. I'm not sure because I didn't look in the trash can to find out.
On an equine related note; Gertie and I went to our second show of the season last weekend and completed our Showmanship ROM. We now have 15 points in just two shows. Pretty spiffy if you ask me. It was a good show but it was colder than a witch's titty outside. I just hope we can keep up with the success we've had so far.
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3 comments:
OMG not the barf-shits. They are the worst. You are not the only one that will reflex vomit at the drop of a hat.
Anyway, I hope your mom gets better and that it isn't catching.
Well... at least there is someone else out there that feels the same way I do! Thank you for reassuring me that my phobia does not go unwarranted! LOL!
She is better today, but last night was just awful!
Don't you worry - there's more of us out there!! I can't even hear people being sick or I reflex vomit... evil stuff.
Like you I can't cope with doggy-vom, thankfully if you praise them everytime they eat it back up they tend to clean it up themselves, untill it's only a little wet patch that's easy to convince yourself is just like murky water that needs mopping up!
Congrats on the success of your outing!
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