When Grampy Doesn’t Feel Well

I was feeling rather poorly today and, as a result, I stayed home while the rest of the tribe from Casa LuMarFin was accompanied by Grammy to church.  The woolly beast was outside the whole time and never barked once, nor did he insanely scratch ferociously at the front door of the house.  I am certain it was not because of any regard for my physical distress but rather because he didn’t know I had stayed home and was smart enough to know that barking and scratching to get in would be to no avail.  I did not disabuse him of that perception!  There are a couple of human interactions that I remember now as I prepare to call it a day.

Margo: Are you sick, Grampy?

Me:  I feel like I could puke

At which time she made a beeline for the kitchen to announce that situation and ask for the vomit bowl for Grampy.  Apparently she was told by Charissa that I was an adult and could make it to the bathroom if I needed to.  Margo returned and with intense seriousness that belied her age of 4 she said:  “Grampy, if you have to puke you will have to go up stairs to the bathroom.  Put the lid up on the toilet and puke in it and then be sure to put the lid down and flush it.”

I assured her that I would do so. … and I did.

I slept most of the time that the family was away and was awakened by concerned members:

Lucy gave me a stuffed animal to snuggle with and make me feel better.

Linda asked me how I was doing and whether she should pack us up and take me home.

Ryan let the woolly beast in and it immediately jumped up on the couch and landed all 75 lbs or so on my stomach and chest and stuck a drool dripping snout in my face.

Charissa, my sweet daughter, who has never been to medical school, did several things

1.  I observed her starting the essential oil diffuser and wondered what sort of concoction she had mixed up in that.
2. She asked me if I wanted to put anything on my stomach.  She was referring, I discovered, to oil of some sort.  I declined.
3. Not satisfied, she brought me a glass with a dark liquid in it.  She said, “drink this” … “What is it, I asked”, trying to smell it.   “It has no taste”, she informed me, “just like drinking water”.  I did take a few sips and it was tasteless … until she told me that it was activated charcoal!!!!  Then it tasted awful!  My  dear sweet daughter was making me drink a concoction of powdered charcoal briquettes!  I was barely able to get the rest down as I thought about the fact that I put activated charcoal tropical fish filters and my cat’s water fountain!
4. Finally, she brought a chaser of elderberry juice … that was not bad.

In the midst of this, as I informed Ryan about what his wife was making me drink, he responded with a smirk and said “Good Luck”!  That was Soooooo encouraging!!!!

The fact that I’m writing this report is evidence that I have survived all of these things … and I am feeling some better although not altogether so.  I’m hoping that some more sleep will be the ticket … and wondering if I should be concerned about the blackness of my stool!  It’s frightful!