Well, I strongly suggest that the faint of heart stop reading at this point because this is not going to be a pleasant journal entry. First, I hope everyone had a good Christmas. Mine was enjoyable up to a point. The day after Christmas, we gathered at my grandparents’ house to open gifts as my out-of-town relatives had finally made it into town. After opening presents, my brother complained he wasn't feeling well. Of course, he never feels well. So we headed back home around 10:30 PM.

I was working in the basement and had just finished a bowl of my dad's famous tomato soup and rice when noticed a little after midnight that I had the runs. I was thrilled to say the least. Around 1:00 AM, I headed upstairs to go to bed and was still feeling pretty well other than the runs. I ran into my mother who was cleaning the bathroom because my brother had thrown up. I was relieved that I only had the runs because he apparently had both, ick. Between 1:00 and 3:00, I ended up having the runs every 30 minutes or so. I went downstairs because I wanted to lie on the couch near the bathroom. The last two times were really bad as I felt really lightheaded and had a strange sensation that I was holding back. At the time, I didn't realize what it was, although I had a bowl near my bed in case I needed to vomit.

Around 3:15, my mother came down and told me she was taking my brother to urgent care because his diarrhea was coming out bloody. I began to panic because I was getting similar symptoms and was worried I was getting the same thing. As I was getting dressed to go along with them, the sensation returned. Ok, folks, I suggest you stop reading at this point. So I motioned to my mother to bring me the bucket because I "thought" I might need to vomit. Now, I've always thought those skits on Saturday Night Live were funny where the vomit comes spraying out because it was so "unrealistic". I learned that night that there was indeed such a thing as "projectile vomit." After dumping a bowl of tomato soup and rice on the floor (my mother wasn't fast enough), I felt much better. My brother assured me the sensation would pass and I would feel like crap again. Great. We left immediately and my father was stuck cleaning up the mess. Poor dad.

So we made it to urgent care where we were admitted immediately, my brother going in first, of course. While I was waiting in the next "cubicle", the nurse began to give my brother and IV and was concerned that he was dehydrated. Oh, yes he was. The nurse (male) let out a yell as he and my brother both fell to the floor. It took the nurse, me, and another man to haul my brother back onto his bed. He was so dehydrated that he ended up fainting and fell right on the nurse. We both ended up getting IVs to battle the dehydration. My brother needed a lot more than me, but it was kind of freaky. I vomited again around 6:00 AM as I needed to dispose of the rest of the tomato soup...yuck. I was released around 7:30 AM and Nick got out around 8:15 AM.

The rest of the day involved drinking fluids (water, juices, and popsicles). Unfortunately, I didn't pace myself well and ended up having more than I could tolerate. Apple juice sucks in the opposite direction. However, I followed the suggestions and was feeling better by the evening. Nick slept most of the day.

The next day I was up to full strength although I was only able to eat basic solids (water, soups, rice, Jell-O, toast, etc). I actually went out that day and visited with my family who had begun to catch what we had. My grandfather, aunt, and uncle ended up getting it, but no one else did, including my parents. We assume it was some kind of virus since it wasn't food poisoning and the doctors never said anything about a bacterium. Several people thought it was that Norwalk virus (from the cruise ships) that had been spreading around.

This was my first real visit to an "emergency room" and I had never had an IV before. They are both events I would NOT like to repeat in the near future. By the way, if you think this was a totally gross thing to write in an online journal, I agree with you. However, I did warn you... :)

You know, I love school. You have to after 19 years of school. If you didn't love it, you would want to commit suicide every single day at this point in your educational career. As much as I love school, I was happy to see this past semester come to an end last week on Wednesday. Almost every semester, I've thought to myself how hard this one is in comparison to others. However, I would like to go on record that this past semester was the hardest one I've ever endured, and none can compare. If I never have another class on computational complexity, it will be too soon. However, I guess I shouldn't gripe because I did end up with a B+ average for the semester, although that is the lowest in six years. However, next semester should be fun and I'm anxiously looking forward to it...the last one at the University of Michigan!

I probably won't be writing until after the New Year, so Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone!

For those of you who had the privilege of visiting my parents' house, you have no doubt had the distinct pleasure of meeting, being brushed up against by, or if your were really lucky, getting jumped on by my family's cats. I found out this evening, that Bernie, our friendly fat cat, had to be put to sleep this morning. He was becoming very ill and would not have lasted more than a few more weeks as he was quite literally drowning in his own bodily fluid, grotesque I know. He would have been 15 in February, and lived longer than any other cat we ever had (the previous record holder being 8 years old), so he lived a long time and brought a lot of happiness to my family over the years. I actually spent a good deal of time with him over the weekend and I noticed he was having a harder time breathing than normal, and he had lost a lot of weight, although he still had his "sacks of fat" on his underbelly. I have little doubt that there are forces beyond my control in this world as something told me he wouldn't be with us much longer as I spent more time with him than I usually do when visiting my parents. So, in the end, I think we will all miss him (my family at least), but I am glad we had such a long time with him and that he did not suffer needlessly in his final days with us.

Bernie, you will be missed by all who had the opportunity to know and care about you. Wherever you are now, it is no doubt more peaceful as you don't have Baxter and Dickens to bother you any more and the bodily suffering that your old age had brought upon you is gone. You brought much happiness to all who got to know you and if our paths are to cross again one day in an existence beyond my comprehension, I look forward to hearing your loud purring and petting your beautiful fur again. Until that day, be assured you will live on in the hearts and memories of all those who treasured your company. Goodbye, Bernie.