Wednesday, March 14, 2012

One Sick Puppy

I feel old.  And sick.  And mean.  And barfy. 
It occurred to me in my agony last night that I had not blogged in awhile, and I wanted to.  Because this blog was meant to be a forum, if you will.  A place where I can journal about this particular season of my life, with uncensored honesty.  But that changes a bit when you realize that anyone can read your thoughts.  Yikes!  All of the sudden, you think, I better write something witty or perky!
People, I don't do perky.  It's why I did not make the final cut for the Mouseketeers back in Orlando, circa 1989.  They said, "She can sing and dance, but she's just not perky enough for Disney."  
So, today, I decided, "How about a little honesty?"  It will be cathartic! Or perhaps, I will just take some comfort in sharing my misery with others.  
It all started over a week ago, when Savannah came home from school with a mysterious green eye gunk that looked highly contagious and complained of another ear infection.  Oh my Lord!! This is her fifth ear infection since November.  The doctor's office is on speed dial.  That night, she woke up crying in pain, and the next morning at our appointment, the doc informed us that her poor, little ear drum had ruptured.  At this point, the doctor and I both throw up our hands and agreed that it's time for tubes! Now, we just wait for our ENT appointment, while I pump antibiotics into her body.
The next day, Lilah woke up with her little eyes sealed shut by crud.  So now, hubby and I are taking turns wrestling screaming people on the bed, while prying open their eyes to give them drops three times a day.  I actually thought to myself, "This must be what one of those Dateline predators feels like, only not enjoyable at all!!"
A couple of days later, Lilah and I wake up with a sore throat and a general sense of awfulness.  We wade through the afternoon in a haze, sleeping on and off and watching too much Nick Jr.  We drudge through the week, lethargic and mean, growling at anyone who irritates us.  Finally after five days of this crap, I think, "It couldn't hurt to get checked out."  So I make an appointment with our doctor, half expecting her to say, "Suck it up!  You've just got to start exercising, lazy-ass."  
She does not really say this to me.  I just think she should.
As I am insisting that the nurse take my blood pressure again, as I will it to GO DOWN,  my wonderful doctor announces, "You've got Strep and so does Lilah!"
I think I actually said, "Thank you, Jesus! I just thought I was going crazy." So off I go to pick up my wealth of antibiotics, and when they say, "Ma'am that will be ready at about 6 o'clock tonight," I actually start to cry because I am so tired. Did I mention that I just started my period, as well? 
So fast forward two days.  Here we are at home. Me and Lilah.  Just chilling, and honestly she is looking great. I must be like this total drag for her to hang with.   She is ready to hit the ground running.  But I am feeling worse than ever!  
Which led me to open with the "old, sick, mean, barfy" bit.  I am all around impossible to live with.  Hubby subtly pointed this out when he said, "Just to clarify, we do realize that none of this is my fault, right?"  
And I do.  I am just the worst patient ever.  And on a side note, he is the greatest guy ever.  He puts kids in their beds a hundred times a night, without screaming at them.  He doesn't complain that there is no dinner when he gets home.  And he does not comment on the sour smell that is probably coming from the sweat pants that I've been wearing for two days.  
What a guy. Thanks, Babe!  I owe you one. 

1 comment:

  1. Poor baby!! I'm sorry you've been so sick. The "I don't do perky" comment made me lol. Hang in's getting better. And I'm proud of Boris too--good hubby!!!