I have been back home in London since Saturday afternoon and I literally am in the sick of it! But for once in all my 27 years, it's not me that is ill and for this, and other things, I am thankful.
We got home mid afternoon on Saturday and, in desperate need of a nap, both crashed. We hadn't had much sleep on the plane as a little nipper on our aisle would start winging every time we just feel about feel asleep. I don't mean to sound bitter about the babbling babe, but I couldn't see that he was upset for any particular reason. I am quite happy for little people to be upset.....so long as there is a reason....
Anyway, after our long naps, Alastair started to complain that he didn't feel well. We went to bed but in the middle of the night he woke as he felt he was going to be sick. He was indeed sick, several times, and he was still making friends with bathroom floor and I was looking on and doing my best to help when the sun started to come up. Sunday and Monday brought a fever but there was no more cookie tossing. I was pleased about this as I still hadn't finished washing all the sheets and towels that got it the first night. (Life without a dryer. Oy vey!)
I left a stable Alastair last night to see a friend who was leaving London in the morning. Dinner was nice and I enjoyed seeing the Christmas lights on Oxford St. On the bus home I was contemplating life and my return to London when I heard a dreaded noise. You may know it. The splitter splatter noise that vomit makes when it hits the bus floor. I looked over, and in horror, spied a man old enough to know better tossing his Christmas party drinks a few seats away. He threw up eight times and then sat back and closed his eyes like nothing had happened. As I watched the rivulets of vomit cross the aisle and head towards my new boots, my mind raced. This was not what I envisioned of my London homecoming. Why am I surrounded by vomit at every turn? Annoying, drunk man ruining public transport. And for gods sake, woman, move before your shoes get it!
I leapt up and lunged towards the front of the bus, careful to avoid the sick streams. Drunk man also thought it was a god idea to move and crossed the aisle to sit in my vacated seat. He sat there for a moment and acted like nothing much was happening, like he himself was not responsible for him having to move. I gave him a very dirty stare and when he looked at me I told him that he was old enough to know better. In a slightly comical Italian accent he told me he knew it was horrible and he was sorry. "I am so druncccccc," he said, followed by "I am soooreee, I'm ambarassed,"he said over and over again. I told him it was not me he needed to apologise to but to the bus driver. In response, he jumped up and lurched past me towards the front, explaining himself as he went. He then sat down and proceeded to call a cab and explain that he was very drunk, had been sick and was very embarrassed and please could they send a cab to him even though he didn't know where he was. He looked confused when the cab company hung up on him.
As I got off the bus and made my way back towards the flat, I again considered my not-so-glorious London return. The past few days had certainly not gone as I planned. Playing nurse, piles of laundry, and telling a grown man he was naughty for throwing up on public transport had not been on my London Return to do list. It was then that I realised the universe was reminding me things don't always go as planned and I had much to be thankful for.
I had not planned on Alastair being sick, but in him being sick I was given the opportunity to look after and care for him as he has done for me so many times in the past. I had not planned on washing sheets and towels that had just been washed in my absence, but wasn't I lucky that we had extra sheets and towels to use while the others dried in a warm flat. And wasn't I lucky to be living in a city with good public transport and people being merry. And wasn't I lucky that I had managed to not get vomit on the nice new boots my parents had bought me for Christmas.
So I am home and am in the thick...or sick...of it and trying to be appreciative of all that I am in the middle of.
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