Christa and I are always trying to come up with funny stories for our blog. Months ago I asked Dave to write about the one time he got really bad food poisoning and ended up in the hospital for a week. He wrote it and we tabled it because we couldn’t figure out if it was funny or not. I like it because I’m biased and think Dave is the funniest person I know.

Fast forward to the holidays and the Wilcox house of sickness. In the past few years we have been diligent about all of us getting flu shots. This year was no different. Two weeks ago Isabella was sick and we found out she had the flu. We were praying the rest of us would not catch it. A few days later I got a sinus infection. Tuesday morning Dave woke up not feeling well, his stomach hurt. He got worse and worse. By Wednesday (Christms Eve) he was miserable. He felt so bad he agreed to go to the 24 hour emergency room quick care down the road. They told him he didn’t have the flu, but probably a 24 bug. We went home and waited for it to run it’s course. 

Christmas morning he felt a little better but then got worse. We were back at the emergency quick care after his pain level (stomach cramps) reached an 8 out of 10. This time we were sent home with the same “it will run it’s course” and a stool kit to be taken if he got worse. Thankfully he seems to be better. I told him if he had to take a sample, it would be stored in his beer fridge! Sorry for that tmi!

Here is what I learned about why the CDC is apologizing for this years flu shot concoction. Every year the CDC  designs the regions flu shots based on predictions. We southerners don’t necessarily get the same concoction as northerners. When they guess correctly they have about a 35% success rate. This means 35% of people who got flu shots will not get the flu. This year the success rate will be about 16% (according to the nurse). It looks like if you get a shot and the flu it won’t be as bad for most (this was the case for Isabella). 
Please always get a flu shot. We are entering an age where healthy young adults and others are dying in higher numbers from the flu. 
Ok, enough serious stuff, here is my wonderful husband’s guest blog. Enjoy. 

Dave’s Hospital Stay: written by Dave
In my younger days (before Corrin and the girls), I lived by myself in an apartment. This apartment had a balcony.  Because I was a wild man, I liked to grill on my balcony. On this particular occasion, I decided to grill a couple of burgers, settle in, and watch a movie. Due to the fact that I was allowed to watch a movie, you are again reminded that this was before Corrin and the girls. The light on my balcony had burned out so cooked in the dark by instinct, in much the same manner as our ancestors.

After the burgers were cooked, I turned off the light in my living room and put the movie on. I started eating my first burger. After a few minutes I noticed something funny. The burger seemed mushy. I turned the light on and took a look. I was eating what looked like a reverse M&M. The burger had a thin brown shell and was bright red inside. I had eaten about half.
Well that was a bummer. I tossed that burger, turned off the light, picked up my second burger, and resumed the movie.  Again after a few chews, I noticed that this burger seemed mushy as well. The light went on, the reverse M&M went into the trash.  I was lucky, because I was so grossed out at eating the equivalent of an entire raw hamburger I had lost my appetite. Otherwise I might have been hungry since I’d thrown half my dinner away.
The next day was a Saturday and my stomach started rumbling a bit but I didn’t think much of it. Sunday the rumbling got a bit worse. Sunday night I lay awake curled up in a ball on the floor of my bedroom. As Monday morning rolled around and I started getting ready for work I was hit by an epiphany. I was sick and should probably go to the doctor.
My General Practitioner saw me and deduced that I had Crohn’s Disease. I miserably got a few X-rays and then went to a stomach specialist. After painfully waiting in the specialist’s office for about an hour and a half, the specialist brought me in and reviewed my X-rays. Luckily I didn’t have Crohn’s Disease. As you might expect for all the time I spent describing my burgers, I had a really bad case of food poisoning.

The doctor told me that I had no time to spare and I needed to immediately check myself into a hospital. I asked him if I could take the time to drop by my apartment and pack a bag. He told me that there was no time to spare. I then pointed out that there had been plenty of time for me to spend sitting around in his waiting room so surely a 10 minute detour to pack a bag for an indefinitely long stay in the hospital couldn’t be too bad. He relented and I got my bag.
I followed the directions he gave me and checked into the smallest hospital I’d ever seen. I’m not even sure it was two stories. I want to say this was the Cornerstone Hospital of Houston (but really it was in Bellaire).

I laboriously shuffled into my room and immediately saw there were two beds. I heard a sputtering and angry sort of sound. I then saw I had a roommate. My roommate didn’t seem too happy to see me.  After he ignored my attempt to say hello I set my stuff down and the nurses hooked me up to IVs full of antibiotics and saline.  At this point I’d like to make a bit of a digression and say a few things about my stays in hospitals. Since I’m not a doctor, please understand that I probably don’t know what I’m talking about. However, it would seem to me that the thing that sick and injured people would need the most as they recover would be simple, plain, deep, uninterrupted sleep. Hospitals don’t give you this option. Not in this case, and not in any of the overnight stays that Corrin had after each of our girls. At any given, unpredictable hour of the night, people clamor in to give you pills, to change IV bags, to take your temperature, to check your pulse, to sell Tupperware, etc… It’s kind of ridiculous…
Well when you’ve got a hospital roommate, you get all the aforementioned interruptions X 2.
Also, around 2 AM of the first night, my roommate decided he wanted to get friendly and chatty. I was awakened by the glare of the fluorescent lights coming on and the sound of my divider curtain being drawn back as my roommate asked me if I wanted to watch him play video games. I said “No” and went back to sleep.

I like games as much as the next guy but I don’t want to watch anyone else play them. The whole point of games is the playing of them. (In actuality there is a live-feed gamer website called Twitch that has a monthly viewership of 45,000,000 people).
The next morning my roommate got up early and went into the bathroom and stayed there for about 45 minutes. He came out and I immediately shuffled in dragging my IVs along in a very clumsy “peepee dance”. I came out about a minute or two later and got an earful from my roommate as to how he really had to go to the bathroom and now had to spend another 45 minutes cleaning it before this could happen. Apparently he was OCD and couldn’t use any bathroom without giving it a good scrubbing. I just looked at him and went back to bed.
I’m an easy going guy and there aren’t many people I don’t enjoy spending time with. However, this guy was a trial.
About this time I started to get visits from some of my friends. Everyone was very sympathetic and brought me magazines, books, and snacks. I couldn’t touch the snacks because I was on a liquid diet but it meant a lot to me all the same.
Every time I got a visitor my roommate would immediately ask them if they would mind driving down 59 to get him a new game. It got to the point that the first thing I would whisper to a guest as he or she arrived was “Tell him no”. They would give me a puzzled look that would vanish as my roommate would start his request. I would have felt bad for him except that he never asked his fiancé…
Since this is getting a bit long, I’ll just add one more thing. As I mentioned before, I was on a liquid diet. I enjoy eating so the diet was especially hard. I don’t know if my roommate realized that he was going to be billed for his stay or if he just thought his insurance was going to cover everything. At every meal he would order about 4 or 5 entrees… At one point he got a dozen chili dogs. My liquid diet made me ravenous so this was torture. The worst part was he didn’t eat any of his entrees. He would nibble a bit here and there but eventually the orderly’s would throw it all away. All-in-all I was in the hospital for about a week. The antibiotics healed me right up.
 
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