The etiquette of regurgitation
Most of us learn the manners we have when we are fairly young. Mom tells us, "Remember the magic words" when we go off to friend's birthday party. Dad says, "What do you say to Aunt Bessie?" when Aunt Bessie bestows a dollar. It's an ongoing process through our formative years. We learn to say, "Excuse me" for belches and "Bless you" for sneezes. We learn to behave "properly."
Decades ago we had Emily Post to tell us what fork to use, how to write a thank-you note, who should be seated by whom at any given occasion, and that women should NEVER wear white after Labor Day (can you imagine anyone caring about that today?) I wonder now who made her the boss. I don't know what happened to old Emily
Anyway, I did find out recently that there is one page missing from Emily's etiquette notebook.
While visiting daughter number two in Colorado the last week in May, I was knocked off my feet by an affliction I have. Doctors determined some years ago that I have migraine headaches without the headache. That means I have all the vision problems and the nausea and vomiting that migraine sufferers usually struggle with, but I don't have a headache. All of which is more information than anyone wants, but suffice it to say that I cannot see much and I throw up a great deal, get dehydrated, go to the hospital, throw up some more, etc. (It's icky, but at least my head doesn't hurt.)
During this last episode I found out something new about throwing up. There is no way to do it in public that is acceptable to anyone. There are no etiquette rules for this one, folks.
Thirty-six hours after my first up-chuck in Fort Collins, Colo., we were headed back to Peabody. Fifteen minutes out of Fort Collins, it was "pa-too-ee-ee" just before the Loveland exit. The mister was driving, I was gagging over a three-pound coffee can in the shotgun seat, Morgan was feigning sleep in the back, and Satchmo was panting and perplexed behind me. The family in the SUV that we were passing however, was horrified! I raised my head and looked at them just in time so see how disgusted they were by my behavior.
The next time, just past Denver, I lowered my head some more to try and hide what I was doing. No luck. Up I chucked and the kid in the back seat of the car next to us covered his mouth with his hand and rolled inward. And so it went every 30 or 40 minutes
I swear I really tried to barf with decorum. I kept trying to lower my head further toward the floorboard of the car. But there is only so much sheet metal behind which an adult can hide in a mid-size car. I even tried to watch out for cars that might pass us or cars that we might pass and gauge my roiling stomach accordingly. However, the universal truth of throwing up is that it will happen when it happens.
And there is just something about the hunch of the shoulders, the forward lurch of the head and neck
It is Emily Post's fault, of course. Throwing up in public is a breach of etiquette and she never told us how to handle it. My best advice is this: if you are the offender, just be glad you have a receptacle. If you are the offended, let's see how well you do when its your turn.
— SUSAN MARSHALL
