Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Road Out

We woke up early on Saturday morning and quickly loaded the van while Little Abbey continued to sleep. Just as we got the last of our things loaded, Little Abbey appeared at the head of the stairs crying. I assumed she had wakened from a bad dream but when my wife got closer we discovered the real reason. She had thrown up during the night and was wearing last nights dinner of macaroni and cheese. Since we had cleaned out the refrigerator, all Little Abbey had to eat was that and she ate it with gusto, in fact eating as much as she typically does for three meals. So when we found it all over her and her bed, we decided she had simply over eaten and was fine. We took care of the bedding, got her cleaned up and into her car seat and took off south while Little Abbey ate breakfast.

We had gone perhaps a hundred miles when it happened again and Little Abbey threw up. She was happy, talkative and fine one minute and the next she is mewing like a sick kitten and then throws up her cheerios and milk. My wife having suspected what was coming had her cupped hands waiting to catch it all while I tried to focus on the road and not the sounds coming from the back.

When you have planned something for so long, I think your brain shuts down the better judgment part of the cortex and allows your flimsy reasoning to lead. We decided that her stomach was still probably a little upset and she needed to take just little amounts of food and liquid to let it settle down. Forty minutes later, my wife was staring at that food in the palms of her hands in a half digested form. By this time we knew the truth that Little Abbey wasn't well. But since she was bubbly and happy in-between times, we decided to keep on going stopping now and then to grab more napkins and to get more clothes for her out of her bag in the back.

After the third incident, things appeared to settle down and when we stopped for a late lunch, Little Abbey successfully kept her food down. We had already made the decision by her second incident to head straight for my brother's house in Alabama instead of the long way via New Orleans and the coast. So despite her being back to normal, we were already committed and kept on plugging away at the miles. Kentucky and Tennessee went by and suddenly I found myself in Alabama. Though it was dark and we had been delayed quite a bit for Little Abbey's incidents and for a traffic accident south of Nashville that plugged the Interstate for about forty minutes, we were within spitting distance and decided to go for it. Nearly 14 hours after we started, we pulled into my brother's place.

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