In sickness and in hell

Sarah came over Thursday to see Britt, for the first time since October.

I didn't get any fresh gossip from her because I don't care enough to ask any more, plus I wasn't feeling very talkative since I wasn't the least bit happy to see her. She still showed me the tracks on her arms, though, just like she has every time I've seen her in the past year.

Gah! Why does she do that? How stupid does she have to be to keep waving her fucked-upedness all up in my face?

Anyway, before she left she asked if she could come back over to see Britt the next day. She said she wanted to be consistent.

(She hadn't made any attempt to see Britt since October. Not even a peep at Christmas.)

So Mikey and I looked at each other and said, "Uhhhhhh, we'll have to discuss that and get back with you."

After we went to bed that night, the Barf-O-Rama began.

Oh, God. The Barf-O-Rama.

We were sound asleep when Britt puked all over our bed. Alllll over. It landed on the sheets, the pillows, the headboard, the bed frame and the floor beneath the headboard. Mikey took care of wiping down Britt and comforting her while I stripped the bed and found the huge wet spot on the mattress. I gagged when I saw the mess on the bed frame and on the carpet beneath the headboard, so I switched off with Mikey and took Britt to get fresh jammies on while he finished cleaning up.

Then, we adjourned to the living room. Mikey stretched out on the couch with Britt beside him, while I was scrunched into the loveseat. We were just drifting off when Britt sat up and spewed again. This time the sheet in her lap caught it and it didn't get on the couch, but I said to Mikey, "It's ridiculous trying to sleep out here. Let's go get in the bed in Britt's room."

And so we went and crammed into the little double-sized bed in Britt's room, and I was dimly realizing that the reason I couldn't roll over was because Mikey's arm and Britt's leg were both jammed down the front of my shirt when Britt puked again!

Aaaaauuuugh! How could there possibly be anything left in her? By this time it was about 4:00 am and we were exhausted and frustrated and worried, plus we were quickly running out of clean sheets and towels and mattresses that didn't have big stinky wet spots on them.

So Mikey and Britt settled down in the living room again, and I passed out across the foot of the double bed after I stripped it. Britt barfed again and some of it got on the couch, but Mikey just cleaned up the mess and put a towel over the wet spot and went back to sleep. And that's how we spent the rest of the night.

And then the Shit-A-Thon began.

(To be continued)