Friday night after Kids Zumba and chick-fil-a, Ellie fell asleep in the car on the way home. She woke around 11pm with some running stools. Ok. I should have warned you that this was going to be gross. Sorry. You're forewarned now.
About 30 minutes later she woke up, and started the vomit-o-rama. For the next 8 hours the poor thing couldn't keep anything. anything. anything. down. Not even the tiniest sips of water. Bless her heart, she was able to indicate to me when we had to race to the bathroom or grab the trashcan. She didn't miss once. I did. I fell asleep somewhere between 3:38's retching and the next call to the can. I tried to pick her up but couldn't make my body move. We'd already been to the bathroom about a dozen times, and at 54 lbs, low tone, and extreme fatigue. Well, my body had stopped being able to lift her easily. My dear, sweet husband got all the laundry started and helped lift Ellie on one side while I supported her on the other for the next few hours till her tummy finally stopped revolting.
The next few days were quiet and she didn't eat too much. The net loss has been over a pound. This is not the way to lose weight, but I guess every small step counts.
I calculated her BMI today: