Sadly, Mam spent most of the past weekend just like this. And those were the good moments...the ones where no one was holding her little head over a bucket, she wasn't begging for more water or ice chips that would just make her vomit more. She slept. A lot.
And Daddy, like a true superhero, took care of his little Mam almost entirely on his own...largely because he knows that I get these things at least as badly as Mam and he's usually done with them in an hour. We had to cancel our sitter for Saturday night, so I joined Grandpa and Smuch at a "High-A" baseball game, while Daddy ministered care to Mam. (More on the baseball later.) He also got up with her repeatedly on Saturday night. I was awake a lot too, but he always got up. I doubt he got more than a couple of hours sleep at any one time. She was so miserable!
By Sunday afternoon, after a pointless trip to the after-hours clinic, Mam was finally keeping some liquids down. As usual with our kids, that progressed rapidly to solids and to an entire dinner. None of this wait-several-hours-after-the-first-liquids-stay-down-to-start-solids stuff.
Smunch was jealous. He was jealous of how much attention Mam got. He was jealous of her Pedialyte pops, but I think her dinner capped the whole thing off. Complaints about his tummy started rolling in.
Thankfully, Mam was back to her Mam-like self by Monday...just in time for her end-of-year park party for school! And Smunch is fine, of course!