Disgusting vomit question (TMI inherent)

In My Humble Opinion
21

I haven’t, but I’ve had to clean up after someone who did.

A few years ago, I caught a bad stomach bug - threw up so hard I got dry heaves and petechaeie (sp?) on my face from the force of my hurls. I was staying with my parents, and my dad was kind enough to go out and get me some sherbet, which was the only thing my stomach would accept. I realized that their foster daughter at the time was keeping a very close eye on the sherbet, and I told her not to have any, because it was crawling with whatever virus I’d come down with. If she wanted some ice cream or sherbet, all she had to do was ask my dad, and he’d get some on the next store run.

Nope. That evening, she cleared out a third of what remained, and by ten o’clock, was sitting on the toilet expelling everything from one end when the other end kicked in. She could have just leaned forward and hit the floor. She could have leaned to the side and filled the bathtub. Nope, sitting on the toilet, she managed to puke in the tiny space between the toilet and bathtub.

Now, my dad is getting old, and his immune system isn’t what it used to be. My mom had just started a new job at a place she loved and absolutely could not afford to lose sleep or possibly pick up the stomach virus from foster kid’s leavings. I was recovering from said virus. So, who got to clean it up? Petite moi.

Urgh.

The only thankful part was that she managed not to hit the heat register in the floor. That would have been bad.

22

That reminds me…

I was very young, and I woke up because a barf was imminent. I was making my way to the bathroom but didn’t make it. I spewed chew into the cold air return grate.

Luckily, under the grate was a flat surface that prevented most, if not all, of it from running down into the furnace.

My mother cleaned it up. My dad was furious.

Geez.

23

I am one of those that doesnt get nauseous often, maybe 5 times in the last 20 years.

I was having a lovely bout with asymptomatic bladder infection that migrated north into my kidneys. In about 16 hours I went from more or less normal, to feeling like someone hit me in the lower back with a baseball bat [which I thought was just a twisted back from lifting an air conditioner] to serious nausea.

My roommate of the time [husband was out to sea and Stephen was a dear to take care of me before he left for his night job] left the 5 gasllon stock pot by the bed for me to hurk in, because with the way my back felt I wasnt able to get up and run for anywhere… [still ended up going to the sub base ER at 0300 in the morning]

I have found that I have a ‘trick’ that seems to work to keep me from hurling from migraines. I hate a dirty toilet, so I will slowly and gently walk into the bathroom, and put a glug of standard bleach into the john, and use the brush to clean it, then use some of the chlorox wipes to wipe down the seat and outside, is sort of a slow gentle version of the cleaning I normally do. I wash my hands well so there is no residual bleach on them, and flush enough that there isnt a strong smell of bleach. Something about the bleach smell seems to make it easier to resist vomiting, and if I do hurl, it is almost a comfort smell, I guess a psychological clean feeling.

Between the habit of keeping a 5 gallon pot handy, and my supressive technique, I havent missed a receptical in 20 years.

mrAru on the other hand projectile puked gingerale and fruit salad while he was getting dressed from recovering after having his hernia repaired. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached down for his shoes and hurk … 11 floor tiles distance, about 10 feet… :eek:

24

Not to be indelicate (in a TMI thread?), but why on earth would anyone choose to vomit in the sink? Don’t you… er… have chunks to clean out of it? At least with a toilet it’s designed to handle solids.

I’ve always made it. Like alice, I have to will myself to puke most of the time. Usually I get terribly nauseated for hours, and when I manage to vomit, it’s a big relief, and I’ve been sitting in the bathroom on the floor for some time, staring at the toilet.

25

When my sister and I were little and when we got sick, my mother would take a wastebasket and put a plastic shopping bag in it. Thus, we could sit on the sofa and watch cartoons and if we had to throw up, there was a handy receptacle right there. Just remove the bag and put in a new one! Voila!

I have, however, missed the toilet or the wastebasket on occassion, just because I woke up in the middle of the night and just started vomitting.

26

I once had to make the same decision. The choice I made was opposite to yours. It was the wrong one :frowning: . I managed to clean up without anyone knowing.

My only excuse is that I was quite drunk at the time and my judgement was impaired.

27

Okay, I don’t agree with your friend that there’s something wrong with you, but I believe she always makes it to the toilet because in my adult life, I’ve always made it. Like alice_in_wonderland, I kind of have to work to sick up, even if I’m suffering from a terrible stomach flu (as I did just last week, thanks for asking :slight_smile: ). When I’m nauseated, I feel as if I’m going going to hurl any moment, so I’ve certainly been worried about not making it to the bathroom, but it’s one of those things where it turns out that I get there and still have to do some deliberate heaving before anything actually exits. This annoys me a bit, because it would be easier just to hurl and be done with it. Since this is a True Confessions kind of thread, I’ll add that I’ve become pretty good at inducing it because it feels awful to need to throw up while my tummy isn’t really giving it the old college try on its own.

28

All the times in my life I’ve been sick, I’ve never made it. Not even close.

I particularly recall one incident when I was about 6 or 7. It was the middle of the night and I’d woken my mom up because my stomach felt weird. She had good mom-radar and had gotten the barf bucket, just in case. I remember sitting on the floor and she was across from me with the bucket, asking if I thought I was going to be sick. Trying not to worry her, I said, “Oh, no mommy, I’m fiBBBLEEEARGH”

It was so sudden, it took her a couple seconds to shove the bucket in front of me. I’d already ruined the carpet, unfortunately.

29

Only when drunk. Only when drunk. But holy crap, could I re-plaster a wall in my hard-partying undergrad days. Actually, more like part of a wall and half of a door. I and three other guys wound up in our dorm room after raiding the remains of a Halloween party and absconding with the leftovers. We proceeded to turn the stereo up to 11-and-1/2 and flirt with alcohol poisoning.

One straight pull of Vodka too many later, I’m sitting there, barely able to remain upright on a sofa, and that horrible wave hit me. I don’t know why I even bothered to go for the bathroom, I was so shitfaced I could hardly operate the doorknob. I fumbled with it for a second, gave up, and quite literally launched about a gallon of Smirnoff-soaked puke at the only route of escape.

I slowly turned from the door toward my roomate, who was sitting on a desk chair in about the same shape as myself. Maybe the sight of vomit-spackled walls set him off, or the smell, but he suddenly lurched over right in front of me and blew chunks in nearly as spectacular a fashion as myself.

This was too much for one of our guests, who fortunately made it to the window, hung his head outside, and emptied his guts onto the side of the ivy-covered exterior. I swear to Og, I triggered a upchuck chain reaction that claimed three of the four people in the room. It may have been the single most squalid night of my entire life, standing there sprayed with my own vomit and surrounded by the vomit of others. Only if I’d shat myself could I have sunk any lower.

Which I was about to do…so I wrestled clumsily with the barf-spattered doorknob and bolted for the men’s room. I got to the toilet stall, leaned heavily on the door frame, and spent a brief moment deciding which end should go first. In a flash of adrenaline-clarity, I calculated the consequences of simultaneous expulsion with my face in the john instead of my ass would be more troublesome, so I dropped trou, exploded out my back end, and had another nice heave between my splayed-out legs and feet. Probably the only reason I can remember any of this was because I’d ejected so much of the alcohol I’d imbibed. Blacking out might have been preferable to the rudiments of lucidity I still posessed in that moment, allowing me to appreciate how truly pathetic my plight had become. And what was I to return to? A barfed-on doorway to a bed next to a pool of my roomate’s puke? Why, yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I returned to. I collapsed onto my bed, with the lights on, the stereo blasting, and I didn’t care. I wanted to die. When I woke up to the hangover and the crusty aftermath, I almost wished I had.

Best days of my life. <sniff>

30

I vividly recall once in high school.
Accounting class.

You see, Mr. Holbert, an old, cranky, uptight, unyielding man, did NOT allow anyone to leave his classroom for ANY reason.
Well, he changed that rule right after my incident.

I cannot believe that in all his years of teaching, which were many, he never had a student feel the need to vomit during one of his quite boring tirades about debits and credits, or any other time, for that matter.

He would not let me leave the class.
So, I horked.
Right there.
THEN I walked out, leaving behind an angry Mr. Holbert, projectile hork and some very disgusted classmates.

To this day, some 25 years later, I think it was a ‘thing’ he had going on in his, old, senile, little head, to make the ill student feel embarrassed about horking in front of the entire class.
I don’t know.

He was a strange man. :dubious:

31

Oh yes I’ve missed. Not that I wanted to…

Last year’s bout with intestinal flu was fun. After cleaning up the first couple, I got smart and just slept downstairs. The downstairs bathroom has the stool right next to the bathtub (instead of across from it, as upstairs), which is much more convenient when you’re leaking from both ends. As I was.

Still, awfully horrid. Awfully, awfully horrid.

32

I’ve always made it, except for when I deliberately didn’t.

I was at the doctor’s with a fever and nausea, he said I was fine, I wasn’t fine and to prove my point I threw up on his carpet. Childish, but I was 9 or so and not really thinking straight either. He sent me home anyway. Stupid doctor.

33

My wife was pregnant with our first child. No pregnancy nausea but she came down with a stomach flu. She tried to ride it out and we just got her comfortable on the couch with two mixing bowls ready - one bowl for throw-up and the next ready as we cleaned the first bowl*.

Finally it was too much nausea and we went to the hospital. Instead of having to wait in the ER we got to go up to the delivery room and get treated. Nice bed, fetal monitor, space, and quiet.

I was feeling fine and so expected to get the flu tomorrow after we got home. Then suddenly a wave of nausea hit me and I shot to the bathroom. I threw-up in the toilet, but pooed a bit at the other end. I removed and cleaned the underwear as best I could but some still got on the sweat pants I was wearing. I had to clean those the best I could. We got some good drugs for my wife and got home later that night. But I had to wear the pooed pants until we got home.
Now that I think about it, no, it didn’t occur to me to ask for some scrubs. :smack: :wally

*[sub]Yes, we still use the mixing bowls for popcorn and baking. We have no problem cleaning them and feeling comfortable with the fact that they are clean.[/sub]

34

Wow. This thread is reminding me of just how far away from my bedroom my current bathroom is. Luckily I haven’t had a stomach bug since I’ve lived there, but :eek: I better have a contingency plan.

35

OKAY fine, since others have now added pant-pooping to this thread, I will now relate my dual-ended explosion.
It was a mid-november sunday afternoon in 2004. I had been sick for some time with some kind of bug and I had bronchitus to boot. I was feeling delirious. I had been puking for two days, so I was already used to getting up and running to the bathroom. I was dehydrated and I hadn’t had a bowel movement in a couple of days. I was on the couch having some soup and had been watching Alton Brown’s Good Eats. Then just as Rachael Ray came on, my stomach started cramping and my gag reflex kicked in. No joke! So I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, feeling light-headed from getting up too fast, I started to feel motion sick. I already had a cold-sweat, so as I made my way down the hall the air movement against the moisture on my arms and face made me shiver more. I got to the bathroom, where I was blinded by the harsh light. I quickly knelt before the toilet and unleashed my soup with such force that I released my brewing diarrhea and my vomit and toilet water splashed back into my face and mouth! I was stunned! I was in disbelief! I was grossed out at the toilet water-vomit mixture I was tasting. I could feel the warmth sliding down my ass and thighs, I was wearing boxers, so nothing was no sense of tidiness. I was so mortified I started to laugh, which because of the bronchitus, I began coughing violently. This in turn made me expel more from my other end. I had lost all controll. Still coughing and laughing with my wet hair sticking to my face, I tried to get up and my hands slid off the rim of the toilet and I fell to the side and landed on my ass with a resounding “SPLAT!” I sat there with my head against the sink pedestal laughing and crying, my eyes stinging, my tailbone hurting, my chest feeling like I had inhaled a bowling ball. “Shit” I said to myself and that made me giggle enough that I could feel more bubbling between my legs. That’s the sickest I’ve ever felt and the “sickest” I’ve ever “felt”!

TMI? :o

36

Wow. I think you win!

What does it say about me that I laughed–especially when you got to the “SPLAT!” part? :slight_smile:

All I can say is that I’m really glad that my digestive system behaves itself.

37

This is what REALLY made me laugh. It’s funny 'cause it’s true. :slight_smile:

38

Logan 5, you nasty man! You are going to fit right in here, I can see that. :slight_smile:

39

OK I had no idea a thread I started would come to this. Maybe a mistake. I really wanted to stick to blow jobs. But…hey this is getting interesting, go for it (er…hopefully not in in your actual pants again…lets all pray for more blow jobs and less unpleasent spewing forth of bodily fluid in the future.)

Amen.

(But an interesting story is still an interesting story…and that’s all that matters.)

40

She makes me want to puke, too.