A Familiar Face...

Last night, Andrew, Kate, and I had dinner with my sister's family in Riverton. It was a great night; we stayed late talking then finally headed home in the rain. Our windshield wipers broke on the way there (wonderful), and I had to stick my arm out the window to physically get them moving every time. Luckily, that happened with just a few miles to go to their house. Unfortunately, we had to drive all the way home like that. The rain was heavy, so I had stick my arm out the window every 3-5 seconds. About half way home, the rain started to feel like little cold knives poking my skin. We made it home safely and eventually went to bed. Andrew woke me up at 3:30am because his stomach was hurting him so bad he couldn't sleep. A few minutes later he ran to the bathroom...and spent the majority of the night there. Amazingly, in the five and a half years (almost) that we've been married, Andrew has never thrown up! He shattered his record last night, though.

We're not sure what it is--the flu or food poisoning. Pretty sure it isn't food poisoning because we've eaten exactly the same things for the past few days and I haven't been sick. I did feel sick just from hearing all the vomiting all night long, but I don't think I'm going to be sick (fingers crossed). Andrew's finally getting some rest now--hopefully he will be feeling better soon!

The last time Andrew threw up was when we were dating. It was the first week of our dating--right after he returned from his mission. We were up in Heber or somewhere with another couple watching a movie. Towards the end of the movie, my stomach really started to hurt. I started chomping on gum trying to calm it. That wasn't working, and I nervously began to scan the exits. We were at a house I'd never been to, and I had only just met the girl that lived there. I asked where the bathroom was, and ran there--up the stairs, past the stranger's family, and into the hall bathroom. I remained there for some time. The couple sent us on our way with a bucket.

I concentrated really hard on not puking once we were in the car; I definitely did not want to throw up IN FRONT of the guy I had just started dating. I was already mortified that my hair was matted on my forehead, my skin white and clammy, and that I probably reeked of my insides. It didn't help things that we had to drive home in a blizzard. Andrew was forced to inch our way back to Provo. I finally couldn't take it anymore and yelled at him to stop the car. He pulled over and I flew out the door, ordering him to turn up the radio on my way out. I slammed the door shut behind me. In my vomitous state, I had closed the door on the back of my coat. I was dangling from the car, arms reaching/flailing, trying to throw up, but for some reason unable. I jerked myself free from the car and went soaring into a bank of snow. When I returned to the car, I was now covered in snow, and soon sopping wet as it melted.

Andrew made many a stop on the side of the road that night. I finally did throw up in a tunnel just before Provo--I remind him of it nearly every time we pass through it (as if he needed reminding). Andrew had to help me to my apartment that night, then rode away. That night, after he went home, he threw up, too. I knew he must be "the One" when he wanted to go out with me again after that horrible ordeal. I think that night had been our second or third date--not a good beginning!

Anyway, I have never seen Andrew so sick. I hope he can get some sleep.