I was hoping it was just a passing thing, but clearly the little rascal means to stick around.
I've only run into Major Pukey once so far. It was in the middle of the night at some point last week...and it was a pitiful response, I admit, but I did feel much better afterward and slept well. I'm not so sure that was the last frontier for him though, as he seems to be on the march this evening.
Camping with the Nausea Bug is a blasted nuisance. He is petulant, insistent, and just plain bothersome. Things like the unavoidable smell of the camper, the fragrance of the campfire, and the various aromas from other people's food make it unpleasant, even though the company was fine, the conversation was delightful, and the change of scenery was a relief. But such was life over the weekend. I was thoroughly relieved, though, that the porta-lets seemed to be a bit "fresher" this year than in years past--that made it much easier to face the prospect of heading to the loo.
Today's attempts at eating have been largely unsuccessful. I was lucky with a couple of waffles, but they pretty much turn to sugar immediately on impact. I really wanted some ravioli, which My Darling brought to me with love--but I could barely choke one of them down and had to settle for a small cup of applesauce. This evening's fare was a cheeseburger, which I surprised myself by ingesting rather quickly--I only hope it wasn't too quick, because for the past several minutes here, I've been hearing the rumblings that tend to mean the Major is on the move.....I hope it's a slow march!