Regret
My daughter Kseniya and I were awake and chatting in the AirBNB we were sharing in Austin Texas. We were there to run a half marathon, a tradition we started about ten years ago. It was after midnight on a warm February night and neither of us could sleep mostly because of a strong cold brew coffee we had too late in the day at Mozart, a nice coffee place on a lake where we could sit outside and enjoy the warm air. Not something we could ever do in Utah in February.
There's something magical about being awake at night when others are asleep. It's rare to share this time with a grown daughter and the darkness lends itself to interesting conversation that might not take place in the light of day.
At first the night was quiet. We could hear dogs barking and traffic, car doors slamming as people came home from wherever they had been. There were some gentle snoring noises coming from the next room. Kseniya argued that it wasn't snoring; it was the faulty air conditioner unit. Whatever it was, it sounded like the rhythmic snoring of one of my friends. I had shared a room with her before and knew she was a snorer. We debated this for a while and I conceded that she was right. It was the air conditioner. In my usual manner of imagining the worst, especially at night, I wondered if it had a short and was going to catch on fire.
The warm Austin night noises and our conversation were suddenly interrupted by an agonizing loud guttural sound that was a mixture of a scream, gargling, and constipation that went on for a while, with brief interruptions only to continue.
There was no doubt in my mind what this was. Someone had drunk too much and was trying to rid their body of the poison they had fun putting into it at some hot night spot. Whomever it was their fun abruptly ended with that first dizzying feeling of nausea and maybe a condition called "the spins." Oh I had been there in my youth.
Blaaghhhhhhhhhh! It sounded like she (I thought the sounds were feminine)was turning inside out. My stomach lurched a little, but as a nurse I had heard that sound before or a form of it. I was a pediatric nurse but kids usually didn't make this kind of noise and usually vomited through no fault of their own. Kid vomit is way less offensive than big people vomit.
Kseniya said, "Maybe you should go outside and check on her."
"Nah, she will be okay, " I responded. I was hoping that whoever was with her would make sure she wasn't lying on her back and I mentally rolled her over on her stomach. If she were in my emergency room there would be a suction tube ready near her and those stupid kidney shaped basins they give you to barf in that hardly hold anything - not even kid vomit. We would probably start an IV of normal saline or lactated ringers to rehydrate her so she wouldn't feel so bad in the morning.
I wondered if maybe she was bulimic and just barfing up her chips and queso or whatever good Tex Mex food she had put in on top of the booze. I wondered if she was going to run the half marathon.
For some reason, every time the agonizing noise repeated itself, we giggled. I am not sure if we did it out of sympathy or out of gratitude that we only had one glass of champagne. Maybe we just felt smug. Or maybe the noise gave us a sense of relief that she was still alive.
I knew how she would feel in the morning. "I will never do this again, " she would say to herself and maybe vow to her friends. But it would be a lie. She would repeat this same behavior and the same horrible noise would come from her along with her tacos on another occasion.
Eventually she would realize that every day is precious and nothing is worse than choosing to waste one through your own actions. At least I hope this for her. Because some people never learn and a lot of families are hurt and lives are lost in the name of "just one more. "
There's something magical about being awake at night when others are asleep. It's rare to share this time with a grown daughter and the darkness lends itself to interesting conversation that might not take place in the light of day.
At first the night was quiet. We could hear dogs barking and traffic, car doors slamming as people came home from wherever they had been. There were some gentle snoring noises coming from the next room. Kseniya argued that it wasn't snoring; it was the faulty air conditioner unit. Whatever it was, it sounded like the rhythmic snoring of one of my friends. I had shared a room with her before and knew she was a snorer. We debated this for a while and I conceded that she was right. It was the air conditioner. In my usual manner of imagining the worst, especially at night, I wondered if it had a short and was going to catch on fire.
The warm Austin night noises and our conversation were suddenly interrupted by an agonizing loud guttural sound that was a mixture of a scream, gargling, and constipation that went on for a while, with brief interruptions only to continue.
There was no doubt in my mind what this was. Someone had drunk too much and was trying to rid their body of the poison they had fun putting into it at some hot night spot. Whomever it was their fun abruptly ended with that first dizzying feeling of nausea and maybe a condition called "the spins." Oh I had been there in my youth.
Blaaghhhhhhhhhh! It sounded like she (I thought the sounds were feminine)was turning inside out. My stomach lurched a little, but as a nurse I had heard that sound before or a form of it. I was a pediatric nurse but kids usually didn't make this kind of noise and usually vomited through no fault of their own. Kid vomit is way less offensive than big people vomit.
Kseniya said, "Maybe you should go outside and check on her."
"Nah, she will be okay, " I responded. I was hoping that whoever was with her would make sure she wasn't lying on her back and I mentally rolled her over on her stomach. If she were in my emergency room there would be a suction tube ready near her and those stupid kidney shaped basins they give you to barf in that hardly hold anything - not even kid vomit. We would probably start an IV of normal saline or lactated ringers to rehydrate her so she wouldn't feel so bad in the morning.
I wondered if maybe she was bulimic and just barfing up her chips and queso or whatever good Tex Mex food she had put in on top of the booze. I wondered if she was going to run the half marathon.
For some reason, every time the agonizing noise repeated itself, we giggled. I am not sure if we did it out of sympathy or out of gratitude that we only had one glass of champagne. Maybe we just felt smug. Or maybe the noise gave us a sense of relief that she was still alive.
I knew how she would feel in the morning. "I will never do this again, " she would say to herself and maybe vow to her friends. But it would be a lie. She would repeat this same behavior and the same horrible noise would come from her along with her tacos on another occasion.
Eventually she would realize that every day is precious and nothing is worse than choosing to waste one through your own actions. At least I hope this for her. Because some people never learn and a lot of families are hurt and lives are lost in the name of "just one more. "
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