Adventures in Leftovers...

Yesterday was a great day. Until...it became a very, very bad day. If you've ever had food poisoning, you know it's a bad day like none other.

Every once in a while in our office, we do our best to be good stewards by packing lunches and bringing leftovers (often, our lives are too "on the fly" to be so prepared :). But yesterday was one of those days. We had leftover turkey from an event on Friday and so Pastor Sheri, Kristin and I decided we'd make some sandwiches and have a quick lunch together in the church kitchen. Great idea...for a moment.

We finished lunch and later, I headed to the polls to cast my vote (and ensure job security - but that's for another blog). When I returned, I found my generally poised and prepared "Pastorette" slumped in her office chair and holding her stomach. It was clear things were not going her way (refer to the link above for her account of the day). I started grabbing things off her desk and stuffing them in her briefcase between, "No...I have too much to do..." and "I think that may have been the last of it...".

We managed to get her to the car but she insisted on driving herself (Pastor Frank was working the polls and I would be the only office personnel; someone had to get some work done around here!) A while (what felt like a very loooong while) later, she arrived home and let me know she was safely embracing her very own porcelain friend.

I called Kristin, "Hey, I know you have a dentist appointment. But you may want to nix that and head home. Your mom's like, super sick and I can't leave the office."

"Oh no! Ok, going home now. I'll call her on my way."

I went back to my desk, trying to get a a mailout to the box before 4. "Eww," I thought, "I'm pretty queasy..." But I dismissed it as sympathy sickness and kept working. Eyes watering, stomach groaning and pain mounting, "This is serious sympathy sickness". Until, I was propelled out of my office chair and food poisoning was confirmed. I tried to finish what I could between episodes and finally called Kristin and said, "Girl. You better get ready. I'm sick now too...and this stuff is violent..."

"Nooo....I thought I didn't feel good but I'm trying to just breathe..." Kristin said. I could hear the dread in her voice.

I drove myself home, barely making it up my stairs and in the door. I created my own "yuck-bucket" and got myself to bed where the violence continued. I text Kristin, "Are you still ok?" "No," she answered, "I'm on the side of the road but Dad's here." Awesome. All three of us. Sick, in various locations.

I laid in my bed and felt, with each experience, that my ribs might crack or maybe my eyes would burst out of their sockets. And then, a knock came on my door. Meagan, my frister and Pastor's youngest daughter, said, "Come on. Dad said to bring you to the house with mom and Kristin." It was a looooong drive. But at least now I was in good company.

We spent our evening together, sprawled from one end of the house to the other with Pastor Frank and Meagan changing out buckets and helping us from bathroom to couch. The house was relatively silent between groans and other sounds (of which I'll spare you description). It was a great time of bonding. I'm hoping we scrapbook it sometime.

Today, we're achy and sore but not running to the bathroom...so I think we're all pretty grateful for that fact. And...I'm hungry.