Yesterday late afternoon, I suddenly felt overwhelmingly nauseous.
(no, I'm not pregnant)
I was trying to hold it together at work and pound out the last two hours,
but finally had to bail and go home.
On the way home, I was trying really hard to focus on the songs on the radio, and not on the fact that I was about to lose my lunch (ravioli to be exact).
But, that was to no avail.
Because I had to pull over on the side of the road, and throw up for all passerby's to see.
The ravioli wasn't pretty.
I thought about taking a picture, but I wanted to get back in the car and drive home more.
Then I thought, "Who really wants to see a picture of this?"
So, lucky you. No picture.
Anyways, I laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and slept my nausea away (mostly).
My husband was so worried about me, and it was really sweet. He wanted to do everything he could to help me feel better.
It reminded me of a time about two months after we got married:
I had a really bad UTI (#typicalmormongirlproblems).
Taylor kept telling me to go to the doctor, but I insisted that I was just fine.
Then, my kidneys started to hurt, and I was throwing up like crazy. So I decided going to the doctor would be a good idea.
It was actually the same week as finals...so, as you can imagine, this was an awesome week for me.
After throwing up all day, I fell asleep on the couch in the living room at around 7pm.
When I woke up at two in the morning, my sweet husband was laying on the floor next to the couch, fast asleep.
Even though there was another couch about four feet away, he chose to sleep on the ground, so he could be right next to me to help me if I needed it.
I was overwhelmed with gratitude for this wonderful man.
I woke up again at six in the morning.
He was still there, on the ground.
And he was holding my hand.
Yesterday morning, I made a list of chores I wanted to get done that evening (you know, before I knew that I'd end up getting sick).
I obviously didn't make it to that chore list.
But when I woke up this morning, the list was gone.
And everything that I had on the list had been done.
Leprechauns? Angels? Little mice?
Just my wonderful husband.
My wonderful husband who cared for me until I fell asleep.
And then started on that chore list.
And didn't finish until the whole list was complete...even though he was up until 12:30am doing it, and had to work early the next morning.
But he wanted to make sure everything on that list was finished.
Just for me.
Growing up, my dad used to always "baby" me and my siblings when we weren't feeling well.
When we were sick, he would make sure our beds were just how we liked them.
He would call to check up on us (if he was at work), or come into our rooms (if he was home) to make sure we were doing okay.
He would even give us a bell to put on our nightstands.
If we needed anything, we just had to ring the bell, and he'd come.
We only got this treatment if we were sick though. ;)
He'd buy us a Jamba Juice if our throats hurt, some 7-up and crackers if our stomachs hurt, and even milkshakes if our hearts hurt.
I love getting taken care of when I'm sick.
I got spoiled when I was a kid.
By my wonderful daddy.
And I'm getting spoiled as an adult.
By my wonderful husband.
How did I get so lucky?
Still trying to figure this out.
Thank you, Dad.
Thank you, husband.
I love you both.