And by “it’s“, I mean, me and by “alive” I mean, the antibiotics finally kicked in. But it’s too close to Halloween to miss the opportunity for a Frankenstein reference.
Last Thursday (it’s now Saturday) I woke up feeling as if I had swallowed a bunch of razor blades. Since sword swallowing is not part of my carnie repertoire, I knew this meant nothing good. After a shower where I cried (literally) just from the spray of water touching my skin, I knew this meant something beyond nothing good. My husband kind of silently watched me cry and whimper about the house for about 5 minutes before asking if I needed him to stay home from work to take care of the kids. Now before we all rise up and prepare to beat his ass for taking 5 WHOLE minutes before offering to give me a sick day, I have to say he’s rocked it since those minutes–taking care of pathetic (that would be me) and our Small People. Without his insistence I might not have gone to Urgent Care right away– and by “urgent” I mean, anything but.
When I left Slower-than-Snails-Because-it-Takes-5-People-to-Swab-One-Throat Care, all doped up on a butt-shot of painkiller and my first dose of amoxicillin, it was on his suggestion that I drank a milk shake instead of getting a hamburger. And it was him that sent me straight to bed, where I pretty much stayed until this morning.
It was him that went out and bought me soup and Fudge Popsicles, then filled the waking hours of the Small People by taking them on bike rides and other assorted outdoor adventures.
It was also him that finished Elliot’s Halloween costume–painting the helmet that I hadn’t gotten around to yet. It was also him that went to the library and picked up my book requests before the hold expired– including such literary titles as Chains of Ice, No Rest for the Wicked, and Everyday Life in the Middle Ages. What? I read cerebral stuff, too–ahem, nonfiction about the Middle Ages– but my pleasure reading? Not so much.
I’m really happy to feel mostly alive today–I bathed the sick/dead smell off of myself and I’m blogging–that’s a huge accomplishment for a woman who has been keeping a newborn’s sleep schedule. I’m glad that I am no longer contagious, which means the Small People can attend Trunk or Treat tomorrow. I’m sad that I procrastinated my own costume so long that it won’t be going to ToT tomorrow (and don’t worry, Z has mentioned this to me at least a dozen times. “Mommy, if you would have started your dress when I told you to…”) Out of the mouth of babes…procrastination is my greatest motivator and worst enemy.
I’m a little disgusted that one of the side effects for my antibiotic happens to be sore throat and that it took good ol’ Chloraseptic to kill the throat pain because–and I never thought to say this out loud–hydrocodone wasn’t working.
I’m trying to stay smart today by not jumping back into my life at full speed, mostly because I know my dear husband needs to go back to work on Monday. And I don’t want to ever feel again like I felt yesterday. So, take it easy day…and since it’s already 5 pm I guess I pulled that off, too.