Vomit

If there’s one thing I have learned in the last two and half years taking care of my mom is that she will say about twelve different sentences each and everyday at least a million times that drives me crazy. 

There are a few words that I cannot stand to hear one of them is “vomit”. Now there’s better ways to say the same word that would be more acceptable to me: tossing your cookies, upchuck, heave, puke, ralph, round trip meal ticket and  technicolor yawn sounds better. But no she’s stuck on vomit. 

Last Sunday was no different. It started right when she got up; 

“Nancy, I better not have Ensure this morning. I’m going to vomit, just give me a cup of coffee water?”
“No, mom we no longer drink coffee it’s not good for you Ensure is a better choice.”
“I said I’m going to vomit, don’t you understand?”
“Mom, every morning you’re going to vomit, but everyday nothing.”
“Sometimes I vomit before I come out here.”
“Mom, if you vomited before you came out in the morning you would be screaming for an audience. And even if you did vomit your stomach would be empty for Ensure”. 

She finally drank the Ensure (no vomit). She took her shower and dressed in another nightgown (why not it’s already noon).

“Mom, you haven’t eaten anything would you like some eggs, cereal, fruit?”
“A small bowl of Cheerio’s.”
“Nancy, I’m going to vomit?” 

Now keep in mind that my granddaughter had spent the night and she had been in the den listening to us in the dining room. She gets up stands by me and is looking at my mom;

“Mac, what’s up?”
“Nothing, grandma.”
“Then why are you out here?”
“I want to watch Nana throw up?” 

So I reach under the kitchen sink and bring out the thrash can and place it by my mom; 

“Why. did you put the thrash by me?”
“If you’re going to vomit I don’t want it on the floor.”
“Why are you looking at me?”
“I want to watch you throw up Nana.”
“Well, I’ve been waiting for two years for you to finally vomit so I want to watch too.”
No vomit. 

Later my mom ate a small dinner and was watching TV in her room when my daughter Dana came to pick up Mac. She walked back into my mom’s room;

“Hi, grandma how do you feel today?”
“I vomited”
“Mom, grandma said she vomited.”
“She didn’t vomit. Ask her where she threw up?”
“Well, it went into my mouth.”
“Ask her what she did with it once it was in her mouth.”
“She said it was only the taste that came up.”
“Tell her she burped.”

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