The poor girl’s eyelids are heavy and swollen from crying. “Skye just gave me some pink chalky stuff and I think Tylenol or something.”
“When?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Ask her,” Sunny moans, arms crossed over her bent knees, face buried.
I go to stand up to do just that when my foot catches on the edge of the bathroom rug and I trip and stumble face-first into the hallway.
“Ah!” I yell, throwing my arms out before me to catch myself.Skye’s door swings open and she sticks her head out, looks down at the back of my head that is currently face-first in the carpet in front of her feet, and busts out laughing.
“Gravity’s a bitch, right?” she snickers. Sometimes I wish her default responses were helpful instead of antagonistic. However, then she wouldn’t be Skye.
I roll over onto my back and stare up at her. “Are you ok, Alis? Did you hit your face on anything? Can I help in any way?” I deadpan. Just as she’s about to spew out another snarky comment, Sunny gags and pushes back onto her knees, hugging the toilet as she vomits once again.How does she even have anything left to throw up?
“Fuck,” I say, sitting up and crawling back to her. I call over my shoulder, “Hey, when did you give her meds?” Before she can answer, it occurs to me that Skye has been here the whole time, yet Sunny was throwing up, no Skye in sight, when I walked in. “And why was Sunny in here alone, throwing up, while you were tucked away in your room?” I’m stressed and concerned, but lashing out at Skye won’t help anything.
Skye steps from her doorway across to the bathroom, her joking demeanor appropriately tucked away in lieu of sympathy and chagrin. “The last dose was about an hour ago? And I had my earbuds in. She took her medicine and went to take a nap, so I didn’t expect her to need me.”
“She’s nine, Skye. You can’t just tune her out when she’s sick.” Sunny has stopped gagging at this point, but she hasn’t yet left her perch. Her face is once again buried in her folded arms, but she’s resting on the toilet seat rather than her knees.
She mumbles into her arms, “Stoooooooooop. Please. I just want to go to bed.” I continue rubbing her back, still frustrated but knowing she’s right. Bickering with Skye isn’t helping anything.
Sunny looks up and whines, “Do I have to drink chalk again?” Good question, kiddo.
“Erm, actually, hold that thought.” Sliding my phone out of my back pocket, I hit Mom’s contact and wait for her to pick up. Skye isstill leaning against the bathroom door frame, eyebrows furrowed in concern and what I assume is remorse.
“Hi, honey. How is everything?” Mom asks, thankfully sounding like I’m not interrupting anything and she’s free to talk.
“Hey, Mom. So, uh, Sunny caught a stomach virus at school and she’s been throwing up off and on all day.”
“Oh, dear. Is she alright? Have you or Skye caught it yet?” Shoot. Didn’t think about that. Let’s hope we don’t.
“I think she’s ok? She’s running a bit of a temperature and like I said, throwing up, but she basically just told us to shut up so her personality is still intact.”Now who’s the one trying to suffuse humor into things?Sunny rolls her eyes at me before sitting back and pulling her knees close to her chest again, once more folding her arms over her knees and burying her face.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from my girl. Do you need me to come down? Is that why you’re calling?” I know she’d hop into her car and be here tomorrow if I asked, but I really don’t think that’s necessary.
“I appreciate the offer, but we’ve got it. I called because Skye says she took some meds about an hour ago, but then she started throwing up again like…” I look at Sunny for a timeline, but she just shakes her head into her arms. “I don’t know. Let’s say twenty minutes ago, tops. I’m trying to figure out if I should give her more Tylenol or not.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Have her lie down with an ice pack on her forehead. Make sure she has a bowl nearby so she isn’t constantly up and down to the bathroom every time she feels sick. You can give her more Tylenol at the recommended follow-up time, but not before.”What would I do without her?
“That, I can do. Anything else I should know?” I ask, planning to get as much information as possible now so I don’t have to call back. I’ve been Sunny’s mom pretty much her entire life, so calling my own mother because I don’t know how to treat a stomach virus in my own kid is pretty embarrassing.
“Keep her hydrated, and don’t hover. You know how she hates that.” Yes, I definitely know that.
“Got it. Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime, honey. Give Sunny and Skye my love. And let me know if you need anything else. Love you,” she says in her comforting, sweet voice.
“Love you too.” I hit the end button and slide the phone back into my pocket before reaching up to the vanity and pulling myself to stand.
“Good news, kiddo. You won’t be taking any more medicine for a few hours yet.” I try to infuse excitement into my tone, but it falls on uninterested ears.
“I just wanna go to bed,” she groans, but doesn’t make any move to get up from the floor.
I turn to Skye and say, “You want to tuck in the patient or find an ice pack and a bowl?”
“Supplies. On it,” she responds and heads to the kitchen.
I squat and gently grip Sunny’s arms under her biceps to help her up and to her bed. “C’mon Sunshine. You’re just a few steps away from a dark room with a fluffy pillow.”
