Running to PottyI spent the weekend lying around feeling like death on a cracker. And most of my mental thought other than, “Please, please go away, bug” was consumed by the question, “Which is it?”

Food poisoning and a bad weekend for me
or
Gastroenteritis and a bad week for me, my O, my F, the husband, and my friend visiting from San Francisco

Let me explain. Food poisoning is not likely to be contagious, gastroenteritis (or stomach flu) is. This phenomenon of stressing on my exact diagnosis has occurred only since having kids. See, I had the “stomach flu” all weekend. I visited the porcelain bowl more than 30 times on Saturday. I felt like utter crum-dog. You’ll have to endure no more details than that, but lemme tell you, it was awful.

As a mom now, what worries me the most when this happens is ensuring the kids don’t get it. Because then it would be a total nut-house-disaster-ness-gross-vomitorium-diarrhea-pit. You know what I mean. Nausea and “not being able to control my secretions” is something okay for me, but nothing I want my kids to endure. Let alone have to clean up after.

So I spent a lot of time in bed toiling over the little germs inside me. Was it one of the 27 patients I saw Thursday? Was it one of those little germs crawling from my stethoscope in my mouth? Was it the juice smoothie I had Friday morning with O, the pho noodle lunch Friday afternoon I had across the table from my sick friend? The buffalo wings during basketball on Friday night? What was it? It was a weird food day for sure.

We call this the differential diagnosis in medicine. The list of possibilities of what can be causing a child’s illness. Even as I recover this AM, I am focusing more on the differential than the discomfort.

Mama bear instinct runs strong. Have to keep this away from the kids. Hand-washing every 23 seconds. Lysol wipes and bleach water cleaner.

Five years ago this would have been just an interesting tidbit to figure out, something to talk about at the virtual water cooler… but now, it’s essential for normal survival in our home. Come on, food poisoning, let it be you.