To know me well is to know this well: I do not like barf. Actually, I hate barf. With a passion. Not just hate - I fear barf. I have an intense and debilitating fear of vomit and/or vomiting and anything related to said vomit (i.e. nausea, gagging, coughing or any sounds that sound like someone barfing, hospitals where people might be barfing, roller coasters with possible barfers, barf bags in airplanes, people barfing in airplanes, people barfing anywhere, people with heat stroke in line at The Oprah Winfrey Show in an unusually warm February in Chicago who barf directly in front of me - you get the idea). I shudder as I write these words.
This is not an exaggeration. I have had this fear my entire life. I do not remember a time that I did not live in fear of barf. I have vivid memories from my childhood of lying in bed, paralyzed with fear and praying with all my heart and soul not to throw up, even offering God all sorts of things in return for not vomiting. I know this may sound strange to most people but I am truly terrified to throw up and to be anywhere near anyone else who is experiencing the slightest twinge of nausea. The mere mention of it will send me into a full on panic attack.
If I happen to be unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of vomit and see it, hear it, or smell it, (gasp!) I will take off running faster than poop through a goose. If you don't believe me, just ask my best friend Jessie or my sister Christie...they have lots of good stories on this topic, most of which are quite comical in retrospect. But at the time I was seriously traumatized.
When I became a mom, I knew I could no longer avoid the dreaded vomit. Unless my kids were superhuman, they were inevitably going to throw up at some point - and I was going to have to deal. Not only that, but I was going to have deal without my usual crying, hysterical panic attack in order to avoid traumatizing my poor babies and creating more puke-phobics. Trust me, I spent many a sleepless night trying to figure out how exactly I was going to navigate this particular predicament.
I have always felt that my issue with vomit falls into the category of a true phobia. My husband, on the other hand, has always scoffed at this notion and accuses me of being overly dramatic about my aversion to barf. "Nobody likes it", he argues. "Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you have a phobia." Well, guess what? The struggle is REAL! It is actually a form of panic disorder and it has a name...emetophobia!
Emetophobia: an intense, irrational fear or anxiety pertaining to vomiting. This specific phobia can also include subcategories of what causes the anxiety, including a fear of vomiting in public (check!), a fear of seeing vomit (check!), a fear of watching the action of vomiting (check!) or fear of being nauseated (check!).
Yes! Check to all of the above. Total vindication. So now that we've established the fact that I am definitely "emetophobic", let's get to the good news: I think I may have stumbled upon...wait for it....a possible preventative and theraputic measure, or even, dare I say it....CURE for the dreaded, most heinous of all things that exist on this planet: the stomach flu.
Last Tuesday night, my 10-year old daughter Sofia woke me at 4am to tell me that she had thrown up and "didn't make it to the toilet". Needless to say, these were not words I enjoy hearing. Since having kids, I have learned to be a pretty good actress and managed to hold it together for her sake. Seriously, a mother's love knows no bounds - only for my child could I endure the agony of cleaning up vomit. I held my breath and did what I needed to do while simultaneously envisioning my other two children joining in on the fun at any moment. Occasionally, I would allow the most horrific thought of all to enter my consciousness...I think you know what I mean. As you can imagine by now, this whole thing is my idea of hell on earth. In my head, I was screaming "Help me! Please help me! I am not equipped for this!".
By some miracle we survived the night with no more casualties, but poor little Sofia did not stop throwing up/dry heaving for 12 straight hours - she couldn't even keep ice chips down. I became obsessed with sanitizing my house, cleaning surfaces, washing linens like a mad woman and turning on both of my UV air purifiers at full blast. Unfortunately I was well aware that these practices had been strictly adhered to in the past with results that were in a word, unsuccessful. To put it mildly. Mass vomitus always ensued. I was doomed.
I almost gave up hope until I stumbled upon a miraculous little nugget of information that would change everything and restore peace in my world. According to many, many moms out there in this amazing thing we call the world wide web, there is a sure-fire way to prevent the stomach flu from wreaking havoc on your life...Welch's 100% Grape Juice. Here's one of the testimonials I found online:
http://musthavemom.com/2012/01/stomp-out-stomach-flu-with-grape-juice.html
Of course, I immediately ran out and bought several jugs of the stuff and forced it down my family's throats (not hard since it actually tastes pretty good and I don't usually let them drink juice). Well, it's now one week later and no sign of vomit anywhere!! (I really hope I didn't just jinx myself...) I simply cannot believe I have lived almost 45 years without the benefit of this information!!!
I LOVE YOU WELCH'S GRAPE JUICE!!!!
Although it might be premature to declare victory, I just had to share this because I know that even parents who aren't afflicted with emetophobia don't enjoy it when the stomach flu decides to pay their household a visit.
No need to thank me...a world with less barf is the only thanks I need. :-)
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