I might have suggested a Mallory-Weiss tear, which puts blood in your vomit. Not exactly purple, but together with whatever else was in the vomit, it might have become purple. I had such a tear the last time I threw up, and disgorged an unsettling amount of bright red blood along with my lunch.
Thankfully I haven’t barfed very often, and the few times that I have, I’ve been able to reach an appropriate receptacle. Whereas swallowing involves peristalsis, vomiting involves retroperistalsis. I’ve found that when vomiting is imminent, I can postpone the event by swallowing as forcefully and frequently as I can; my guess is that those two waves meet somewhere in my esophagus and cancel each other out. The last time I barfed, I’m pretty sure this technique bought me an extra thirty seconds or so; I threw up within a few seconds after I stopped swallowing.
My parents have told me that I was quite the projectile puker as a newborn. I didn’t take to breastfeeding well, and my formula had to be tweaked a little until they found something that worked. This was back in the days of homemade formula, and I do remember my mother mixing up the same old recipe for my sister - lots of cans of evaporated milk, and dark Karo syrup.
Two weeks ago I was at the home of a family doing a photo shoot for “Baby’s first Christmas” of the family and their 7-month-old daughter.
When I got there I found that they had the heat set at “roast” and they had almost no lighting at all in the place.
I set up two umbrellas with flashes and got to work, getting the older brothers to pose in front of the tree with baby and other stuff like that.
About twenty minutes in, it looked like my vision was not recovering so quickly from the flashes. Five minutes later I realized I couldn’t see the focus in the viewfinder: a full-on migraine was just around the corner, and I was seeing the visual effects.
Thankfully, I was able to finish the shoot, pack up the gear, and get back across the river to NJ before the headache and nausea hit. I wasn’t normal again until 2am. The photos turned out perfect.
Baby’s first Christmas… that would have been a poor choice of location for barfing.
Eh, the trash can in my bedroom is a 1 gallon stock pot. About 15 years ago I was having a bout of some stomach bug, and it has long been tradition in my family to use a large stockpot as a vomit bucket - stainless steel, large volume, easy to hurl into, not going to leak and easy to sterilize. We simply never bothered removing it from the bedroom after I got better, I have multiple stock pots, and it makes an excellent trash can. Works for regular trash and an impromptu vomit if needed. At least in our bathroom we can sit on the john and hurl into the sink at need
I did have diarrhea one time and the smell was so bad I had to get up and vomit. (There was a long enough pause in the action down below that I could get up.) The force from vomiting was enough to make my my nose start bleeding. The resulting mixture in the toilet haunts my dreams.
Another time, I stupidly tried to go drink for drink with a big guy I was friends with. Yeah, right. I semi-passed out at the bar and then stumbled out into the street and threw up in the gutter. Only later was I told that there were cops parked right near there observing the whole thing.
I’ve never really hurled in any place that was strange. Got food poisoning one time, and was running at both ends simultaneously. Thank god the bath tub was within leaning reach from the john.
I’ve had dry heaves twice following major surgery. Nothing was there to bring up, but I had basins in hand both times just for the comfort value. Struck me as odd to do that.
My mother’s solution when we’re sick is to use a wastebasket, but put a barf bag in it. Then just get a fresh one after each, um, use. Just in case you can’t make it to the toilet.
I had that happen when I was about seven or eight, only it was all over my stuffed animals too. My mother had to wash them about three times to get the smell out.
Do pets count? One of my cats vomited on my TiVo antenna a while back. If you’re not familiar with these, they look like a flip phone with a cord attached to it.
I cleaned it up, and it never stopped working.
On a related note, several times I have looked under my bed, or other large furniture, and found fossilized cat barf. Not a pleasant discovery.
Which reminds me of Barbara Bush’s autobiography, which devoted quite a bit to her hubby’s Japanese tummy troubles. They got a lot of letters from children, and their favorite was this:
Dear President Bush,
Don’t feel bad because you threw up on the prime minister of Japan. I once threw up on my dog.
Love, Jennifer
:eek: :o
I told that story to a friend of mine after her then 3-year-old daughter puked all over the table, seat, etc. at Pizza Hut - and they hadn’t even gotten their food yet! :eek: We had a good laugh about it, and then I remembered something that had happened a couple years earlier - two prominent athletes who did the same thing on live television within a few months of each other, and incredibly won their respective events. The first was marathoner Bob Kempainen, who must have REALLY wanted to go to the Olympics (and did), and tennis pro Pete Sampras. The Sampras incident was the subject of a Dave Barry column you wouldn’t want to read over breakfast, and the Kempainen thing was re-broadcasted during the Olympics, and meanwhile, Dr. Kempainen (yes, he’s a physician) explained the physiology of this bodily function while standing next to a chalkboard with a couple dozen slang terms written on it. AFAIK, these are not on You Tube.
When I told her that Runner’s World magazine printed a picture of Kempainen, shall we say, “in action”, she busted up laughing and said, “No way! Let’s all go print up some t-shirts!” :smack:
I heaved once after surgery, but it sure wasn’t dry. It was the day after I’d had one of my kidneys removed.
I was feeling passable, not sick to my stomach at all. I wanted something, anything to eat but I was to be given light food. The nurse brought me two small pieces of Jello, one yellow, one green. I was careful, taking a bite, waiting to see if it affected me, then another bite. It was okay.
Then a good friend entered the room, bearing flowers and gifts from friends. I smiled at him, then, without warning, the Jello made a repeat appearance. Can you say projectile vomiting? The friend dropped the stuff and grabbed a barf pan and held it for me… That’s one of the measures of friendship, when someone helps you vomit!
Of course, later on, when he was online he told all our mutual friends about “Baker doing her best Linda Blair impression.”
I went to Catholic school, and whenever there was a special Mass, and they’d break out the incense, someone would always end up puking. Most of the time, they got outside in time, but once someone didn’t, and it was all over the vestibule. Ugh!
I had a cat barf all over the stove. Despite cleaning it several times, (AND under the burners, for a week after that it smelled like burnt catfood every time someone used the burners.
I forgot about one spectacular occasion that took place nearly 20 years ago. I was in a hospital bed, recovering from a pelvic arteriogram that took place in the morning. I had been instructed to drink plenty of water to help flush the x-ray contrast dye from my blood. I had also been instructed to lie still on my back for several hours so that the incision in my femoral artery (for the dye injection catheter) could heal without tearing open.
My body wasn’t reacting well to the contrast agent and whatever other things they had injected. After eating a sandwich for lunch (and drinking even more water), I felt I was going to throw up. Didn’t want to get up (the femoral artery incision…), so I pushed the nurse-call button, but too late: flat on my back, I barfed all over my face, neck, and chest, leaving the back of my head submerged in a pool of vomit. The nurse who arrived seconds after that was later overheard describing it to someone else as “the biggest emesis [she] had ever seen.”
They were able to wiggle the soiled sheets out from under me and replace them with clean ones, and they cleaned up my face/hair as best they could. But I wasn’t allowed to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and scrub up for several more hours. Not my best hair day.
I could have at one time, but now would have difficulty with the ‘croutch’ as my lower body is impaired - I would actually need one of those old folks potty chairs. I suppose my husband could. If I am having the runs I simply grab my tablet and a book and move into the bathroom for the duration. We joke about getting a tablet for the bathroom and wall mounting it by the toilet.
mrAru had a hernia repair done about 10 years ago. They fed him ginger ale and fruit cocktail, and he was doing fine so the doc gave him the release checkup and authorized releasing him. He had done the usual pee and eat/drink. As he bent over to put on his sneakers, he projectile hurled about 6 feet [going by counting tiles] The doc came in and effectively said the act of bending over and squeezing his stomach triggered the hurl. mrAru says at least the combo of fruit salad and ginger ale tastes much the same both directions.
I went in for an hysterctomy, and was scheduled with a tee-off time of 11 am. Doing the prep thing starting the night before, by 3 am the eternal crapping had me thoroughly dehydrated despite the gallon of plain gatorade I had swilled prior to midnight. By 8 am I had the worst migraine of my life. Rolling in at 10 am as instructed, mrAru was rolling me in my chair with my eyes shut tight and earplugs in. Getting me laid out in the recliner to start the whole pre-op shuffle was agonizing. They determined I was needing to be admitted in lieu of operated upon [BP of 210/190] so I asked for and was given 2 saltines and one of the little 2 oz cups of ginger ale. 5 minutes later I managed to fill 5 emesis basins. I think I was hurling my toenails by the time I was done. I have no idea how the body can produce all that stuff from an effectively empty digestive system.
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