Landing in Toronto I was feeling a bit worse for wear. Dinner hadn't settle all that well and I was looking forward to getting my bag and my Rolaids. I said as much to Sunshine and he heartily agreed. It seemed the airport was either too hot or too cold and everything was taking just a bit too long. Of course, our bags took something near forever. A further 20 minute wait and the shuttle arrived to whisk us away to our mediocre hotel.

We've changed time zones, it's now after 10. Check in was at least quick and once up to the room I broke out those Rolaids. With relief hopefully on the way, Sunshine got the ice bucket and headed for the ice machine, which is of course at the opposite end of the building one floor up.

WARNING – This party goes downhill quick.

A few minutes later the hotel room door flew open with a bang as Sunshine charged into the bathroom where I heard the unmistakable sound of his dinner greeting the porcelain thrown. As I round the corner all I see is vomit on the wall, vomit on the floor and when I opened it, vomit all over the outside of our room door.

Well this isn't good I think to myself. I try to make soothing sounds and offers of help to Sunshine. Then, as I always travel with a pack of wipes for whatever contingency, I get to cleaning up the mess.

Fifteen minutes or so later, Sunshine emerges, shaky and pale. We start looking for a root cause of his malaise and all signs are pointing to our last airport meal. It isn't the first time we haven't been thrilled with the food from that chain, but it will be the last.

If you've ever visited the Canadian prairies, you know is that it is easy to find yourself a long way from anywhere, especially if you find yourself unexpectedly under the weather. By a long way, I mean it could be at least an hour drive to a gas station that serves as grocery, liquor store, movie rental and pharmacy and that's only if you are lucky. This is a lesson I have learned the hard way and I always travel with what we call my portable pharmacy. It isn't magic. It covers the basic remedies for cold, flu and first aid, with enough of everything to get you through the first symptoms until you can find more.

I give Sunshine some Pepto and some Gravol. It is the best of what I have. I'm optimistic, but then I always am. Not half an hour later when Sunshine makes the dash again, I am a little more concerned. I note the time. He emerges some time later looking even worse for wear. More Pepto, hopefully this will be the last. It wasn't.

It was the strangest thing. It was almost like clockwork. Every 42-44 minutes he made the dash, emerging after too long a bit worse off than the time before.

He is being a real trooper. He's literally drinking a liter of water after each 'round'. It's not staying down, but at least he's still got something to bring up. I tell myself it is helping to rinse his system. This is the body's natural defense against unwelcome guests, right?

As we are nearing 2 am, I am getting more concerned. I keep saying soothing things, but I'm eyeballing my pharmaceutical supplies and he is going through them at a rate I can't sustain. I'm in a strange city, in a strange hotel not of my choosing. I am just not quite sure what to do. I'm counting the hours left in my head and I am grasping for anything that I could call a positive sign.

All the while, this little voice in the back of mind is whispering, 'We have to get on that plane in the morning. We've been waiting a year, we are half way there, and we have to get on the plane in the morning.' As the night continues, a second little voice starts asking, 'What if we can't get on the plane in the morning?' I felt like a monster for even thinking it. Sunshine is in living hell and I am selfishly worried about my travel plans.

Somewhere in the 3 a.m. hour I get my first good sign. Sunshine makes the dash, but the problem has migrated to his lower half. Using my extensive medical knowledge, primarily gleaned from Grey's Anatomy, I decide this is just the sign we were looking for. Whatever big bad is in his gut, at least it is transiting quickly. We've only got 5 or so more hours until our shuttle back to the airport, but there is a glimmer of hope.

Poor soul, I had to ration the Pepto. With less than 2 hours left until we were hopefully going catch the shuttle back to the airport, I resume dosing him. I'm hopeful we can find more at the airport. We've been up all night, but I sure don't have anything to complain about.