I’ve struggled to come up with a blog post about writing while my brain is briefly occupied with other matters. So I thought I’d write about what is on my mind.

I’ve joked around lately about being an expert barfer. Radiation treatments and anti-nausea pills have brought that home. I’m actually serious.

When I was pregnant the doctor said I was the only patient he’d ever had who got tendonitis in their feet from kneeling so much in front of the toilet.

When I was an EMT I could work on a patient, grab up the handy little waste basket, and go back to work without the patient (and sometimes without the paramedic or driver) knowing anything gross had just happened.

Over the past year I’ve provided hilarious moments for doctors and staff as they try to teach me to gargle without barfing. I can’t gargle. It’s unnatural. They want me to gargle numbing medication so I can have endoscopes. They now tell me that swallowing is okay, too. Oh, and they have to give me a double dose of the amnesia anesthetic because – you guessed it – even when I’m unconscious I’m busy.

And let’s not forget sympathy. I feel so sorry for someone else barfing, that I have to keep them company. The dogs in particular. And especially while trying to clean up a dog that’s rolled in dead salmon. But if the dog does something on the rug, I have two options. Join in as I clean. Or, stare at the wall as I drop paper towels in the vicinity, hoping to hit the target, and then leaving the neatly covered bit for the husband.

The husband told me once that I was a ‘dainty barfer’. I had no idea what he was talking about until the first time he got sick in our life together. My god, that man is a pro. I swear he puts his whole head inside to make it echo. You could be down below in town miles away and know what he’s doing.

I sympathized.

I know blog posts are supposed to have photos so people read them. But I don’t believe in ‘selfies’. Especially when I’m being dainty.

And now I’m going to get in the truck for the drive to work. With ginger tea, handy little barf bags from the doctor, and a roll of paper towels.

Yep, I can barf and drive at the same time.