Norovirus
Winter Barf disease, Vinterkräkssjukan, or whatever you know it as...

I suppose I should make a note on this illness.

We in Sweden take it in our stride. Not because we're tougher than evereyone else, but because we're simply used to it.

Keep a bucket near your toilet. This is for a simple reason. The Norovirus is usually referred to as one that causes vomting. Infact.. the vomiting point is usually heavily laboured. This is because noone wants to concentrate on the fact that you turn into a human shower of shit at the same time.

When fighting to control your sphincter (believe me, the time will come) you tend to have only one thing in mind: Sphincter control. Failure to control the surge of rectal pressure will result in a deluge of liquid shit escaping - no, Rocketing - out of your body, invariably catching the rim of the toilet and splattering back over your nuts, thighs, (or mimsy) and all.

All of your poor ill mind is taken up with the control issue... so you usually fail to notice the "surprise vomitting event" approaching fast. There is - I'm pleased to say - A sense of smug satisfaction to having the bucket ready; you feel as though you have cheated the illness.

******************

My first bout of Vinterkräkssjukan (sounds like vinter-cr-air-k-swoo-kan) saw me in my first litte flat in Malmö about 4 years ago. The Bathroom was big enough to fit 2 baths in. While this initially sounds like a bit of a boast, allow me to point out that the bath on this particular bathroom genuinely took up ½ of the floorspace. Next to it at one end of the bath was the toilet, and the other the sink: a Square bathroom, who's door came in between sink and toilet.

I knew I was ill, and knew what I had. Following advice from friends (and the lass who'd kindly given it to me) I put a bucket under the sink (opposite the toilet) in readyness for the fabled day.

It struck while I was drunk. In a bold move that most single blokes and students will recognise, I'd resaoned that illness's nemesis was Alcohol. If it burnt in a cut, it'd kill viruses. This lack of sense may be confusing, but previous posts may alert you to the fact that I'm not a Biologist, and I only sink to such levels of logic after I'm already well into the "treatment".

Anyhow. I digress. (It might be prudent to point at that I'm treating myself for the flu at the moment. Single Malt treatment - while not the most effective - is particularly fine and stylish.)

It hit while I was drunk. With my left knee aginst the bathtub and my right knee against the doorframe, I hitched up my towelling dressing-gown and planted my ass-cheeks on the throne. Too late to do anything about it I noticed that the seat was up. A slightly pissy (and most-likely hairy) toilet rim was cold against my thighs as my arse spewed a geyser of liquid excrement all over the porcelain.... true to legend, as the second wave hit, my guts started to heave.

Feeling that something was going my way I grabbed the bucket, and grimmaced as the warm vomit drummed into the bottom of the bucket.....

- At these times I like to imagine mysef on a children's roundabout in a park: Joyously naked and spewing vile liquids from each end... sometimes in my mind there's a group of burberry-clad charvers surrounding the roundabout, getting covered head to foot in rejected bodily fluids... but that's just me. choose your own "making vomiting fun" image -

...I'd beaten it. Gasping for breath and trying to snort the puke out of my nose I surveyed the scene: My bathroom was clean, and despite spewing, it was all under control. I was an Adult. I could deal with this. It was going to be all right. Ha!

and.... I was out of toilet paper.

Dammit.

Not a big deal really: The toilet paper was on a shelf just outside the bathroom, just within reach. I opened the door, leant out and stretched for the roll....

Alcohol does not improve your balance.
Bathmats don't offer good friction.
Toilet rims are not stable seats.
Cheapo plastic buckets don't survive being kicked against bathtubs,
Splintered plastic will (and does) cut your foot.
and while towelling dressing-gowns DO soak up vomit, wearing them at the same time is less than fun.

A final point... If you end up in this situation: drunk, lying half-in half-out of your tiny bathroom with shitty thighs and a wearing a vomit-soaked dressing gown... Take my advice: It probably IS worth the un-stable slippery nightmare that is "getting back on the toilet".

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I really miss that dressing gown.

.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Sun 30 Mar 2008, 23:07, Reply)