I had a not-fun experience at the end of February /
beginning of March. My wife came down with a stomach bug. That hadn’t happened
since November 2006. Wow, almost a decade. Back then we were in college and
living in a tiny dorm room together. I moved out for a week and stayed with a
(wonderfully kind) friend who had a single dorm room.
After college ended, I was always wondering what I would
do if it happened again, because I didn’t have any close friends who lived
nearby anymore and would be willing to take me in. There were so many times I
thought to myself, ‘I should have a plan. I should know exactly what I’m going
to do and where I’m going to go. I should have an emergency bag packed and
stashed somewhere.’ But of course, I never packed that bag or made that plan.
That would have required facing up to the fact that this could actually happen.
So I was not prepared. But everything still worked out
okay, better than last time even.
She warned me early in the day that she was not feeling
well and didn’t know why, and she said I should feel free to go. I immediately
left and spent several hours driving around in circles, sometimes stopping in a
parking lot to text her and see what was happening. There were no developments
for a while, and I finally drove back home and was thinking about going back
inside. But then she texted me that she had just gotten sick and not to come
in.
I had of course been really anxious this entire time, but
there had been a part of me that thought maybe I was being irrational,
overcautious. So it kind of surprised me to get that confirmation that this was
really happening. My anxiety shot up to panic level; I suddenly got freezing
cold and started shaking. And I didn’t know what to do.
It was a Sunday, meaning I had to work the next day. So I
texted her that I was going to need to come in and grab some things before I
left. She said she would stay in the bathroom while I was in there, but I was
still incredibly nervous the entire time, thinking she might get sick again and
I would hear it. Luckily, that didn’t happen. I grabbed my work computer/bag, wires
and chargers, Kindle, and an extra book. I was trying to hold my breath the
entire time.
I obviously couldn’t go in the bathroom, and I also felt
like nothing in the kitchen or bedroom would be safe, so I had no other supplies.
No clothes. No toothbrush or any other bathroom supplies. No food. See, this is
why a bag packed in advance might have helped. At least with the clothing
situation.
First thing I did was call a hotel nearby, and
thankfully, they had an available room. They asked how long I’d be staying, and
I didn’t know what to say. I said one night, but I might be extending it. They
said that was okay, because they weren’t busy.
Next I had to go out and buy all the things I needed that
I had not brought with me. Another fortunate coincidence; I happened to have a
Walmart gift card in my wallet that had been sitting there for years (because I
don’t usually shop at Walmart), and I had been on the verge of donating it. So
I used that, and it helped cut down on the cost.
Once I was settled in the hotel, I was generally okay. I
was worried in the back of my mind that I might be sick, and I was always thinking
about contamination, so I’m sure that resulted in a lot of strange behavior.
But emotionally, I was good. No more moments of panic. The hotel had good WiFi,
and I was able to work normally; I didn’t have to take any time off.
I checked into the hotel Sunday night. I checked out and
went back home Wednesday morning. Which, now that I think about it, seems like
an amazingly short period of time. But it was mostly because of money. Even
though I technically could have
afforded staying in the hotel for a week, it would not have been a wise
financial decision.
I was kind of a mess the first day back at home in terms
of contamination worries. Not wanting to move, not wanting to touch anything.
It was another work day, so at least I had that to distract me part of the day.
And I avoided my wife for several more days. I think I slept on the couch for
at least another week.
As ridiculous as all this sounds, it is much better than
I handled it in 2006. Hopefully this won’t happen again for another decade. I
mean, really, I hope it never happens, but I know better than to expect that.
