welcome home, moron (and yuck. just yuck.)
Thursday, August 12 
I want to tell you about my trip to New York City, but I feel lousy. And not telling you why I feel lousy would be like pretending there's not an elephant in the room, which in this case is my bootie.
But first, some history for context. My mother-in-law (MIL) takes ribbing for the fact that she rarely lets anything go to waste. A true old-fashioned Dutch mother, she always took pride in making a dollar stretch while raising her family and finding a use for everything useful. According to Shawn and his sisters, despite the fact that she is an amazing baker, this sometimes meant serving items of questionable freshness for dinner. "Kids, you don't have to eat this if you don't want to," Shawn remembers his dad saying when his mom served chicken one night that had that been-dead-a-long-time smell to it.
In any case, MIL will still eat items that others find suspicious in her fridge, and the running joke is that when the end times come, it will just be MIL and the coyotes still alive to pick the last bones clean, as we're pretty sure she has the stomach flora of a turkey vulture.
Which is to say, I have always admired this quality in MIL. I try to put useful things to use, and when I re-serve (hide) leftovers in soups and stews or casseroles, I think about how MIL would think I was awesome. Honorary Dutch, maybe even. So last week Shawn and I opened a container of sour cream to slather on our baked potatoes only to find a blue fur coat floating on top of the half-eaten pint. Without a word, we both moved the mold to the side to expose the perfectly delicious sour cream hiding below and dug in.
Then yesterday when I arrived home from my trip to NYC I was starving and made myself a bean burrito. I opened the sour cream to find an even thicker blue fur coat and some sort of yellowy goo. Still, it looked doable. Maybe sour cream has that good bacteria in it like yogurt, I wondered. I poured off the goo and began excavating. No problem. There was white sour cream below, just waiting for me not to waste.
Not long after that came the waves of noxious gas that I explained to my family was "traveler's butt" as their nose hairs combusted and eyebrows melted off their faces. Then not long after I went to bed came the runs — as in, RUN! to the toilet.
Think projectile vomiting out the bee-hind. It wasn't right. Not ladylike at all.
Shawn asked me what I had eaten in NYC, then we remembered the sour cream. Food poisoning. Have you ever had it? In my case it was a special sort of self-inflicted hell that should probably earn me a Darwin award. An award only given to morons.
I drifted in and out of sleep as my insides worked in fits and starts to rid itself of toxicity, then at 2 a.m. I jumped. "I just shit myself!" I said to Shawn.
"Wha?" he said.
"Oh my God, I JUST SHIT THE BED."
I crapped myself, and made a mess all over the sheets. How completely horrific. No warning to wake up, just my body expelling what it didn't want.
I showered and we stripped the bed, then Shawn scrubbed my mess and put the sheets in the wash.
"I'm so sorry," I said when we finally resettled.
"I'm sorry you're so sick," he replied.
"Maybe this is what it's like when you're old and have to take care of each other?" I said.
"I was just thinking the same thing," he said. "I love you. But would you mind sleeping with your butt pointed away from me?"
We repeated the scenario again at 4 a.m. I didn't have adult diapers lying around and wondered if I should just try sleeping upright on the toilet.
I'm better today, and have decided I won't be there with MIL and the coyotes when the end times come. Anything potentially spoiled gets tossed from now on. Also, I know this sounds weird, but I'm feeling all sweet on Shawn. You never really know if your spouse will clean you off and hug you after the most vile excrement imaginable has ejected from your body until it happens.
Dude is a keeper. Sour cream with fur is not.
Reader Comments (19)
It's good that you can take an experience so horrific and make it funny. I know it wasn't funny for you - or Shawn - though. Shawn is definitely a keeper.
BroJohn and I both had a touch of food poisoning many years ago when we were out of town. We both had grilled fish sandwiches at a decent restaurant. In the middle of the night, I started feeling queasy. I made it to the bathroom in time for both ends to spew. About an hour later, it hit BroJohn. We stayed in the hotel room until the very last minute. By that time I was feeling better and offered to drive. BroJohn claimed he was okay. However, shortly after getting on the highway, he threw up. A little stunt driving got us to the shoulder so we could park and clean up. And I drove the rest of the way. This was not a fun trip.
I hope you feel better soon. And clean out your refrigerator. (BTW, you may have trouble eating sour cream for a while.)
Oh, Megan, I'm sorry you had such a lousy predicament, but I'm even sorrier for screaming with laughter as I read about it. I'm compassionate, really, but you took me over the top. I don't think I'll tell you about the time a very drunk former spouse puked all over me in the middle of the night, but to discover someone else's vomit all over yourself is probably not unlike Shawn's experience.
I had the crapping-one's-chaps experience in Mexico years ago, surrounded by Mexican people who witnessed the whole thing during my fevered nap on a steaming hot train. I woke up disoriented and unwell. The pervading smell nearly knocked me over, but everyone's condescending smile made me hope I'd gotten away with it. I looked around and muttered something about somebody's baby needing a change, waddled to the bathroom and dropped my underwear through the crapper. It fell directly onto the tracks. If I'd had a paper bag for my head, I'd have tossed everything I had on. Do you know they didn't have water, sinks, paper, ANY of that on Mexican trains back in the 70's? I survived the ordeal, but I'm sure some very nice Mexican people are still shaking their heads.
So, take heart that you had only one witness and running water. You might be the bravest confessor I've ever encountered. I doubt I'd have the courage to tell my tale and use my real name. You're amazing.
All I can think of saying is " this too shall pass" You are so funny. Blue fur really ? I can',t belive you still ate it twice.Sometimes, saving money is just not worth it. Funny mother never got sick no matter what she eats. We were never brave enough to chance food poisoning. In my book you are Dutch no honorary about it. Just skip the blue fur next time. still lmao
L!O!L! What is it about poop and bodily functions that is so damn funny? I mean, I'm sorry you had food poisoning and all, but I have to admit I giggled uncontrollably while reading this whole post. :)
I'm glad you're better and that Shawn is so wonderful. Does he have a younger, good-looking, single relative that lives in the Seattle area he might introduce me to? ;)
Oh...Megan...
Rob told me about this yesterday and I have just been in SHOCK. SHOCK. We eat NOTHING past the 'Best By' date over here. Listen, if the manufacturers of said food won't guarantee it past a certain date then I'm sure as heck not going to EAT it. There is no way in hell you would find me moving mold and any sort of yellow GOO to get to anything that I would ingest. I don't care HOW hungry I am. I'm a fanatic. And when I read your story I was gagging. A lot. And not about the poop. I can handle poop. But eating goopy yellow sour cream with a fuzzy blue green coating...
Oh, Lord, I just threw up in my mouth a little.
Oh, Heidi, you are too funny!
FaveAuntie: But there was some unique bonding in that situation for you two, no? BTW, a co-worker said she almost bought me a huge container of sour cream from Costco after hearing the story, planning to leave it on my desk with a big bow.
Nice Lady: No running water? Oh, you poor thing! You feel my pain and more :)
SDA: Yeah, I'm not trying to keep up with your mom anymore as far as building up intestinal toughness!
Becky: Unfortunately Shawn does not have a younger brother, or I would definitely introduce him to you :) He showed up in my life when I was 36 years old and had made peace with the idea that no man was certainly better than the wrong man...I guess my point is (and sorry for the unsolicited advice, but you seem so awesome), live your happy life as you are, and keep the faith that there are still good men out there. Also, my sis-in-law met and married a wonderful guy around her late 30s, I believe. I think she had pretty much written guys off, and now SDA (above) is happy with a really great guy. It happens. Believe it!
Heidi: Oh, I'm so sorry to have made my pregnant friend nauseous with my tale. Can we still be friends? I'm reformed over here, truly.
Nice Lady: Heidi is really funny. Type in "Heidi Sacred and Profane" on a google search and you'll find her blog...
Aw, I'm honored that someone so awesome thinks that I'm awesome. You brightened up my day. :)
I've been on a rollercoaster with a guy for the past 18 months and I finally decided a couple of weeks ago to stop the ride. It feels good, but I'm sad and miss him, even though I know he's no good for me. I know I'm better off alone than with a dud, but I'm such a loving person that it hurts sometimes that I have no one to love. Thanks for the kind words. I know everything you said, it's just hard to believe such things at times. Sigh. I'm working on it. :)
You're right. She's hysterical and solidly grounded at the same time. Thanks!
Hey Becky, it's better to be lonely than to be lonely and miserable. I didn't make that up, but I can vouch for it. I feel your pain but anticipate your contentment.
Aw, shucks, thanks for the nice words. :D
NLwD, you're right, not being miserable has its ups. I'm on the way to being quite happy fo sho. I'm learning that just being nice to people and being happy for others makes me happy. Too bad it took such a long time, but I guess better late than never, right? ;)
Again Megan you make suffering sound so funny. I also wish I took after Mother with her iron gut, when I get GI sick it is EPIC!!! I don't know how I survived childhood with out building up more intestinal toughness than I did-which is none! I have spent more than one night curled up on the bathroom floor.(keeping everyone else in the house awake with my diva-like groans of agony but we just wont mention that) I can't imagine writing about it and making it sound so funny though. There is a point when the cost benefit analysis goes like this: pint of sour cream=$2.39 puking all night= $ way more than $2.39! It takes a stubborn dutchman to work that one out the hard way!
Becky: I've been stuck in bad relationships waiting for them to change as have many of my girlfriends. Sometimes it seems easier to stay in something less than ideal, much less than what we'd envisioned or wanted for ourselves, than to be brave enough to strike out on our own. I admire your bravery in leaving something that wasn't right. It's the only way to find your way to something better, which you obviously figured out. Sending you a hug.
Pooknelle: My story reminded me of your ride home from hunting. A little sisterly bonding :)
Yes, that hunting trip, I have not been that sick since I almost died of malaria-I wish I was kidding!
Oh, honey. I'm so glad you're better. Given the constant science experiment state of our fridge, I often wonder why I haven't been in the same boat.
Nice Lady with Dog, please tell me next time you're in town. You're a hoot! I've been using your "Cardboardeau" line for weeks now.
Ohhhooo...wow! Ok, Am good friends with your deskmate A-hole and he's turned me to your blog. I think I seriously need a box of tissue and a rest. My sides and my cheeks hurt!!!
I totally and absolutely feel for ya, I've had food poisoning TWICE, and both were near "death by sausage" experiences. Projectile vomiting from both ends for hours. NO FUN! One was at a Taco Bell in West Yellowstone from a sausage warmer that had been there all day. (I know, what was I thinking?) The other was an undercooked sausage from a sausage sizzle in New Zealand. They lovingly call their sausages "sausies" down there and wow, yeah their sausies gave me the saucies!!! My daughter tried to warn me...."Don't do it, Mom!" "It's ok, Sweetie." says me. "We are just trying to be polite and fit in, it'll be ok! Maybe you could share it with me?" "No Way, seriously don't do it!" she warns. Waving my hand, I dove in. Don't want to be rude. Well, what came out in the middle of the night was more than RUDE... wow, barely lived to tell the tale. So, yes I understand your pain. But wow, thanks for sharing!!! I'm glad I'm not the only one standing on the podium with that self inflicted Darwin Award!
Hey Laurie,
How very nice to meet you! A-Hole has told me that you and I are cut from the same cloth, and now after reading your comment, I sure believe him.
And ohmygosh, you got food poisoning...TWICE?! I'm so very sorry. Glad after hearing about you for years though, to know that you're back here safe and sound in our community :)
=) Thanks, Megan! Glad to be back.... mostly! We'll have to corner A-hole and verbally torture him sometime!!! Won't be too hard!! Gotta love him tho! We'll perhaps have to get Mom Interrupted in on it as well! =) Loving your blog, keep up the good work!!
P.S. Remember to only eat sausages cooked by you and you only!!! =)
Laurie: I talked to A-Hole and sounds like a potluck dinner invitation for all of us is forthcoming. Would be great to meet you in person!
p.s. Thanks for the sausage reminder.