Remember on Saturday when I felt like ass and was rather miserable about it? And how on Sunday I was so happy to be feeling well again? Remember all that? Well yesterday saw a return of the Funk and I felt gnarly. I could only manage a couple bites of cereal yesterday morning. My head was pounding. I drank a big glass of water and then followed that with a glass of Coke, hoping the caffeine would inspire the headache to leave me be. Which it did! I was still rather tired though and wanted to try to get a nap. Of course, this meant that Liam was especially anti-nap. I started to feel worse. Liam started to feel more cranky. It was as if his crankiness was directly related to my nastiness. Bah and humbug. I managed to struggle down to the school to pick up Harry and afterward I was certain that Liam would nap. Except that he wouldn’t. He wanted instead to scream at me and look as pathetic as possible. But I had reached a point where I cared not one bit. All I could do was lay flat and stare at the ceiling and hope the world would stop spinning and let me off at some point.
Kile came home from work early, but coincidentally, Liam had just dropped off to sleep at long, long last. Still, I was not on duty any longer. Kile brought me some toast with sugar sprinkled on top and some 7-up. I ate the toast and drank half the soda and dozed off. All well and good right? WRONG. I woke up feeling like HELL. I hurt from head to toe. I felt like I was on fire. I had all the strength of a newborn kitten. Oh hell.
I spent most of last night feeling that way. Didn’t eat another bite. I was delirious for half of “Heroes” (but at least I watched, hey, I have priorities). Kile finally decided the time to hesitate was through and gave me four ibuprofen. And not a moment too soon. Because if you were asking the ear thermometer, my temperature was 103.8. The fever broke just as I was settling down to sleep. And you know what? I slept all dang night. I woke up this morning, my tummy sore, my back sweaty, my head throbbing but not nearly as bad as I was last night. Praise GOD.
I had a little toast this morning and I’m sipping a mocha that Kile picked up from Starbucks for me. I’m pretty beat so I think I’m gonna take a shower and then hit the hay. With any luck, I’ll have this nastiness licked by noon. Because I’m sure by then I’m gonna be SERIOUSLY hungry.
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This is me. I'm a thirtysomething stay at home mom to three kids. For years I was a stay at home mom to one kid and trying very hard to have more. It took a LONG time (ie: 6 1/2 years), but finally Liam arrived and charmed us with his blue eyes and ginormous, round head. Then we got a shock: I was pregnant again and this time it was a GIRL. Our hearts and home are full at last and now that we're done having babies, we get to relax (snort) and watch them grow (not too fast now, you hear?). Thanks for coming by, feel free to dip into my archives, read my About and History pages (just don't do Jackson's Story without tissues!) and make yourself at home.
