Tag Archives: sick

It’s raining.

27 May

It’s raining, and that makes me sleepy.

Did you know you can have bronchitis and not have any signs of a cold? I didn’t. Until yesterday morning, anyways. After 3 or 4 weeks of wheezing and not being able to breathe, I was sent to the ER by Terry. Yeah, I know. I should take care of myself. Gotcha. In my defense, the not breathing and wheezing thing was only at night and in the morning, and I really thought it was just allergies.

It wasn’t.

I also didn’t know that if you bust through the ER doors and can’t breathe, and your wheezing sounds like you’re breathing and speaking through a broken kazoo, the nurse at the front desk won’t take your name and tell you to go sit in the waiting room. You go right on in. 45 minutes later, I was done with the chest x-rays and onto the nebulizer. Ah, sweet nebulizer. Made me feel like I had guzzled about 27 redbulls and 4 pots of coffee, but I could BREATHE again. Little while later, Doc came back in, told me my x-rays were clear, and I had bronchitis.

I said “HUH?” I’m not sick. I was then schooled in the “Bronchitis is when your bronchii are inflamed and you can’t breathe.” (Or something like that. I was equal parts sleepy and jittery. Interesting combo)

Off I went to drop off my prescriptions for steroids (there goes my Olympic career) and an inhaler. Breathing is nice. Really nice.

 

By the way, this inhaler is super cool. It has a little countdown-to-empty thingie that goes down with every puff. The little thing that covers the mouth piece is connected, so I can’t lose it.  I feel like Daisy, the Super Nerd. It’s the lttle things, eh? I’m also doing the Queen Bee (my great-grandmother, remember?) thing, and conserving my inhaler. 2 puffs 4 times a day? No, no, my friends. 2 puffs 2 times a day, max. Make it last!

 

Please send me some pocket protectors and suspenders, ok?

 

-Daisy, the Super Nerd.

Woke up this mornin’…

7 Mar

Got myself a cold.

In my ever-hopeful world or rainbows and unicorns, I spent yesterday trying to convince myself that I was suffering from a touch of “the allergies”. Crap is blooming, it’s windy, SURE. It’s allergies. The Mayor even said “It’s a bad allergy day”. She can’t be wrong. She knows this shit. I popped an allergy pill. It didn’t do a damn thing, but hey, whatever.

I picked up the kids from school, I helped with their homework. I cleaned the kitchen. I did laundry, lots and lots of laundry. I vacuumed the house. I directed Tuesday nights edition of the “PICK UP THE TOY ROOM OR I’M THROWING EVERYTHING OUT” show. At around 6pm, Terry woke up, (he worked overnight) saw me, and offered to make dinner. I collapsed on the sofa, and proclaimed nasally,

“It’s a bad allergy day.”

Got the rest of the evening activities done, sat outside with Terry, watched some Hoarders on netflix, went to bed when he went off to work again. Tucked myself in, and hoped for a better allergy day tomorrow.

At 6:30am, 30 entire minutes before my alarm was set to go off, I hear all three monkeys yapping and playing and wondering why I haven’t picked out their clothes and gotten them breakfast yet. Apparently, their internal clocks are BUSTED. Is there a way to fix that? At this point I come to the realization that I AM SICK. Fuck allergies. I’m SICK. I decide to wait until the alarm goes off to roll out of bed and begin the day. At 6:58, Diva walks in the room and proceeds to interogate me. Endlessly.

“Why haven’t you picked our clothes out yet?”

“When is breakfast?”

“Why are you still in bed?”

Somehow, I kept myself from crying and whining. I responded in my sick little stupor, “Well, I haven’t picked out  your clothes yet because the alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Breakfast will be at the same time that it is EVERYDAY, after the alarm goes off, and I pick your clothes and you get dressed. I am still in bed BECAUSE THE ALARM HASN’T GONE OFF YET.” Do we notice a pattern?! For some reason, Diva decided to get up “before the sky was blue” and wake her sister and brother up as well, to join in the fun.

By the time I finished answering, the alarm was going off. Joy. Terry walked in the door at that point, so I hustled off to pick their clothes, and let him handle breakfast.

After a sock change for Intuitive, (she has a slight issue with liking to wear socks pulled almost up to her knees with shorts, and mean old Mommy just doesn’t approve.) and a quick “No, you can’t wear your hair to school like that” for Diva, I got their hair done, sniffling and pausing 8 times to blow my nose, lest it drip on their heads. Handsome walks over and says “I don’t want gel in my hair today”. Ok, sure kiddo. Saves me 3 minutes, why not. He usually won’t leave the house without a healthy scoop of gel on his spikes, but he’s 5, so screw it.  Turns out, he had just learned about “Estatic electwicity” in school, and wanted his hair to stand on end, and gel prohibits that. Makes sense. Finally got the crew off to school and safely deposited in their classrooms.

I dragged my ass back home, threw down some sudafed and advil, parked it on the sofa, and here I am now. Sniffling, snorking, blowing my nose and watching Hoarders while Terry naps. There is a doctor’s appointment in my future. We have planned a super special, super awesome surprise for the kids in 8 days, and I will go fucking crazy if I am sick for it.

It’s really interesting (fucked up?) to compare and contrast a cold before kids to after kids. Before I had kids, this would be the MOST HORRIBLE COLD EVER, and I wouldn’t have gotten off my ass for a damn thing. Now? The cold can wait. Green snot pouring out my nose? Gotta get the kids to school. Cough that sounds like Aunt Virginia and her 4 pack a day habit? Gotta pick up the kids. I came to the realization a long time ago that….

I REALLY DON’T MATTER.

Honestly, I’m ok with that. Having kids changes things. Having 3 kids REALLY changes things. As long as they are taken care of, fed, clean, happy, who cares about anything else? Violet has been chiding me all freakin’ morning. She has been texting that I need to take care of myself. Take vitamins, pop vitamin C like it’s candy. I should listen to her. (Violet edit: You think this is the first time I’ve ridden her ass for this? Bitch. Won’t. Listen.) I am usually pretty healthy, but with three kids in school, the germs that have been coming home are insane. I’m just happy that it’s me getting sick, not the kids. Since Handsome started school 6 weeks ago, I’ve had 2 sinus issues, this cold, and random sniffles. Intuitive has had one ear infection. Diva & Handsome have fared better, and just had a cough for a couple of days. According to Violet, new teachers go through this “getting sick all the time” thing in their first couple of years teaching. After that “initiation” period, according to Violet, they “have immune systems that could withstand anthrax”. I’m hoping that my anthrax resistance will kick in soon, since sick or well, I have to function at 100%.

I’m off to vacuum and clean the kitchen. Or sit and watch more Hoarders, and send the Mayor more “I’m sick and I feel yucky” text messages. You decide.

Oh, and can someone please remind me to put on real clothes (including a bra) before I go pick up the kids?

-Daisy

 

© Daisy and Violet 2012. All Rights Reserved.

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