We got an early start, so we had time to grab some breakfast at Waffle House. This was when we learned that "my stomach hurts" wasn't just empty rhetoric, because she projectile-vomited all over the parking lot on the way into the building.
Thankfully it was 5 am, so there wasn't much of a ruckus over it. Also, Maggie said she felt much better, so we figured that maybe last night's dinner didn't agree with her.
Then we got on the plane.
Halfway into the flight, we had two more vomiting episodes (thank goodness for airsick-bags) and one more in the airport all over her and mommy's shirt. Shelly was able to clean up her shirt a bit in the airport, and Maggie ended up being the proud owner of a Chicago White Sox championship T-shirt from the gift shop.
She finally calmed down a bit when we were in Toledo. She seemed happy and she got to pal around with her cousins, which gave us the impression that she was doing better. Then she had another episode in the restaurant next to the hotel.
Poor kid.
Shelly took Maggie back to the hotel room and I got her dinner "to go". The next morning, Maggie seemed to finally over it.
Then I got it.
Thankfully I didn't manifest all the symptoms until after the wedding (which went just fine) was over, but I basically spent all of Sunday in the hotel bed suffering innumerable aches and pains and experiencing bad things coming out of me every 15 minutes.
We got home around 9:00 last night, and I finally got 8 hours of sleep. I still feel like I've been punched in the chest, but I'm mostly over it.
