Out of Africa

My husband is back from Africa.  He had a very long journey home - about 23 hours including layover time and the cab drive home. 

He seemed fine last night, less jet-laggy than normal until he popped out of bed around 1 AM and announced he was going to puke.  He was in our bathroom for a while and then went downstairs, retrieved a bowl, and got into bed with it. 

I am the kind of mother that routinely catches vomit in my hands to save the carpet.  Kid puke doesn't ick me out at all.  Grown-up man puke does.  A lot.  I begged him to go sit in the bathroom if he felt sick enough that he needed to sleep with a bowl. 

I apologized repeatedly and really meant it.  The idea of him puking in my bed made me sick.  He graciously took his bowl and a blanket downstairs where he could have a bathroom to himself. 

This morning he said he puked so hard it came out his nose. 

Unfortunately, whatever he picked up in Africa is not out of him.  He went prepared with Cipro and took some today.  He looks pasty pale like a ghost, but his fever has been under control.  He said maybe he will go into work tomorrow.  I think maybe he needs to go to a doctor tomorrow.  Maybe tonight.