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April 29, 2004



Well, this is definitely the first time I remember. I was six years old and in the first grade, and I woke up in the middle of the night feeling strange, then promptly threw up all over my bed. I remember that my favorite flannel sheets were on the bed, and that made it even worse. I sat there for a second, crying and thinking, "What do I do now?"

For some reason, instead of going to get my parents like any other child would have done, I got a clean blanket from the foot of my bed and brought that, along with my pillow and my Crayola Crayons alarm clock, down onto the floor with me and went to sleep there. My mom was horrified the next morning when she came to wake me up, and told me that I should PLEASE come wake them up if that happened again.

It turned out I had strep throat. No clue why I reacted the way I did. I could attribute it to the fever, or maybe I thought it was a dream, but I remember it too well for that. I think it was really more a case of Lillianna's "Am I normal and is this OK" question. I guess I thought that if I just continued my night's sleep as best I could and ignored the situation, that I would wake up and it would magically be taken care of.


One of my most memorable throwing up experiences was when I was about six years old and spending the weekend with my dad. My dad insisted that I eat cottage cheese for lunch, and refused to accept that I was anything but interested. He would not believe me that I didn't like it, and forced me to eat it all. Shortly thereafter, I threw up in his car. He never pushed me quite so hard to eat anything after that. It was ten years before I was willing to try cottage cheese again, and I really have to be in the right mood for it.


I live in country Western Australia where a 1 1/2 hour bus run to school is quite normal, all over bumpy gravel roads. I had dark grape juice for breakfast, and just as we got to school, I vomited everywhere, over several schoolbags and the only exit from the bus.
If your kids feel sick, DON'T let them drink dark grape juice. It doesn't look good.


My 5 year old's only vomited 3 times. Thank the LORD above and please don't take that as a prayer for more vomit. No. Thank. You.

I don't remember my first and I only vaguely remember my last. I've had a long industrious career built on vomiting, barfing if you will.


Oh your poor little girl. What a sweetie she is.

The first time I threw up I was 7 years old and had just OD'ed on ketchup. I had been eating it with french fries. Not sure if I had a stomach bug which preempted it all, but I haven't touched ketchup since! I remember that it felt AWFUL to throw up. (Of course it always does, but the first time is very scary indeed).

Hope Lilliana is feeling better now!

Marcia Lynx Qualey

Ew. My first time was at Jill Stifter's birthday party. I barely knew her--her mom, Linda, was a friend of my mom's.

I was lonely (all these kids lived in a different town) and so ate candy bar after candy bar after candy bar, and then remember sitting alone in a chair and suddenly realizing I was about to throw up. Fortunately, I was able to ask for the location of the bathroom--and get there--before the deed was done.



This is not my first time but it is my most memorable. It's Christmas afternoon and my mother and her cousin (my Aunt Peggy) are looking at a set of frying pans my mother just received from her. I walk over to my mom and say, "Mom, I don't feel good." She says, "It's just the excitement of Christmas. You'll be OK." I reply, "No, I think I'm going to throw up." My Aunt Peggy, always the comic, pushes the frying pan in front of me and says, "Here, throw up in this." So I did.

Screams ensued. The frying pan was officially christened into our family.

The first time Erin threw up she was about 8 months old. The worst part was the sad look she kept giving me while having the dry heaves. There was nothing I could do to help but hold her head and whisper endearments. I never felt so helpless before in my life.

I hope Lilliana is feeling better!


I doubt it was the first time I ever threw up, but it was the first time that I viscerally remember: I was in Kindergarden. We had eaten Rice Krispie treats shaped like balls on sticks with faces painted on them for some classmate's birthday party. A few hours later, I was laying on my bathroom floor with a 101 degree fever, throwing up in the bathtub. (Why did my mother have me throw up in the bathtub instead of in the toilet? I shall train my children to be potty pukers.) Although I bet it was some sort of virus and wholly unrelated to the snack, to this day, I cannot stand the sight of Rice Krispie treats.


My first memory of throwing up was when I was in middle school, so I was probably around 10 years old. I had gone home with a friend to spend the night. The next morning after we ate breakfast, we had to run to the bus stop. No sooner had I sat down on the school bus, I threw up in front of everybody. It was very embarrassing to say the least.


Ahhh vomit. One of my childhood companions.

I can't remember the first time I threw up. I do remember a time where I woke up throwing up and I thought, "Oh no not this again." So it must have happened sometime before that. I remember once I was in the bathroom and threw up on one of my favorite song books. I was more distressed that Mom insisted on throwing it away (and not replacing it) than I was that I threw up.

The worst throwing up story was when I was in the fifth grade. My mom made me eat this very unpleasant Hamburger Helper Beef and noodles concoction. I didn't want to eat it, and I was a picky eater so this was typical for me. Mom insisted I eat every last revolting bite.

By midnight I had begun to throw up. I did so at least hourly for the next five hours. Mom decided that it would be a good idea to take me to the hospital at this point. At five thirty am we were in the ER of the local hospital where the medical staff treated my mom like she was over-reacting. They patted my head and gave me a lime popscicle. Within minutes, the lime popscicle came right back out. With that, the ER staff went into high alert and I was promptly admitted.

Turns out it wasn't the disgusting beef noodle thing--I had Reye Syndrome and would have been dead from the dehydration within a very short time if Mom hadn't taken me to the hospital.

I still can't stand Beef and Noodles though.

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