Back to It

I was flat on my back with a 103 degree temp and the inability to function for 4 days. Tuesday saw a hint of relief after I took the second dose of antibiotic. And today, Wednesday, I actually ventured to work. It felt good to get back into the routine of normal life after several days of staring at the backs of my eyelids as I couldn't handle much beyond that. I can't remember being that sick in a very long time. And? I hope I'm not that sick again for a very, very, very long time. Thankfully, Roy is a great nurse. Sometimes I think he missed his calling. And thankfully, Jace is mildly independent so he fared for himself for the most part. I think he ate a lot of salad with Olive Garden dressing. (I'm just hoping that salad tipped the scale over dressing but all bets are off.)  I'm not sure what else he scrounged out of the refrigerator--but clearly he is still alive so I guess he isn't too much worse for the wear.

I did stumble downstairs one time to make myself a cup of tea but I never drank it once I got it back upstairs. I fell asleep before I had the chance. And Roy convinced me to take some of this cough medicine he has that makes one fall asleep and sleep like a brick for several hours. And so? I did--even though I was already sleeping like a brick. But of course, sleeping even more like a brick sounded fabulous at the time so I took a swig...and then found myself drifting off to sleep, falling off of a bridge, and kicking myself awake. Or...drifting off to sleep, running into a wall, and kicking myself awake. Over and over again--falling asleep only to rudely awaken myself due to a collision.

That, my friends, is why we don't share others' medications.

On Monday, I rolled out of bed mid-afternoon so that I could stumble out the door, slide myself into the car, and ride to the clinic that is downtown and across from where I work. We dodged voters with signs and pleas to please vote for ----"My wife is sick, Ma'am--we're here for a clinic, not to vote"--and I managed to stumble across the road to the door that led inside where I, after what felt an eternity, managed to drop into the heavenly bliss of a straightback chair, lean my head back against a wall, and close my eyes into that heavenly sanctuary of darkness. For just a moment. Until the nurse shattered the stillness and called my name and, again, I stumbled back to my feet and clinched my teeth against the swirling madness.

Okay--maybe swirling madness is a tad bit dramatic. But still--you get the idea. It was miserable.

By late Monday afternoon? Life had split apart at the seams: piles of laundry, dishes sprawled on a counter that apparently hadn't seen a dishcloth in days, a floor that hadn't seen in a vacuum cleaner in awhile...the saga continues. No doubt about it. My allotted time to be sick had run its course. Roy is a great nurse. He can even do that "wife" thing quite well. But housekeeping? Not his strong suit. (And that's ok--I'm not complaining. He does more than his share and keeps my part of the load light in comparison.)

 And so by late Tuesday, I managed to pull myself up by my bootstraps--(fancy name for antibiotics), and throw a few loads of laundry in the washing machine. I wiped down the counter tops and even ran the vacuum. What's with all of those ladybugs? I'm so over them. I swept the floors and packed lunches and pulled life together as we women do when life has fallen down around us--even if it's from our own making (or lack thereof--whatever the case may be)--and even when we're running temperatures. And then I sank into bed and prayed desperately that Wednesday would bring a normal temperature as...well, frankly, I am out of sick days with the County.

And thankfully, my wish came true.

I am back in the land of the living:

back to grocery lists
and Sam's Club
and rushed mornings getting out of the house so I can beat the schoolbus
and the blustery winds of autumn
and early morning tea
and bike-a-thons and soccer games
and ball with Piper
and packed lunches
and...oh my goodness...

Who has time to be sick when there's just so much living to do?