When A Mother Gets Ill

And not the angry way.  I mean straight up sick.  It sucks.  But, if in the end you get codeine cough syrup, it can get better.  I already took mine for the evening, so this will be a race against time.

Toward the end of last week, I acquired what I thought was a regular ol' sinus infection from the wonderful blowing dust that's prevalent here.  As the man from Houston, Texas, that I ran into at the airport a few weekend's ago said, "I don't know why anyone would want to live here."  But that's beside the point.  I spent the weekend doing my normal sinus infection routine to no avail.  And my throat was on.fucking.fire, along with a deep wet cough that I couldn't get to be productive despite staying up nights trying.  I finally noticed the blisters (on my throat) Sunday night, and by yesterday (Monday) morning, I was at urgent care.

As I write this, I'm growing more foggy and realize I don't really know what the actual points I'm driving home are.  But it goes on, so here we go:

The urgent care doc loaded me up.  After working at the psych hospital, I assume when high pain is mentioned (my throat), the doc is either going to think I'm med-seeking or that I want to kill myself.  Luckily, Doc Taylor just thought I was fucking sick.  Acute respiratory infection sick.  So he ordered a steroid shot, which a nice, seemingly gay hispanic young man administered.  As I bent over so he could give it to me, I found him saying something to the effect of "I have a light hand; if it hurts, you can slap me."  And then after the shot, while he was rubbing on the shot site or whatever was happening back there, I found myself saying, "No, your stick was good.  It just burns a little now that you've pulled it out."  I dunno.  It all seemed so...sexy?  And then I got all my amazing prescriptions.  Even sexier.

So anyway.  I eventually left, got my goodies at the pharmacy, and went home.  Upon my arrival to casa de Mulia, I found my husband literally jumping up to go to work.  By this time, I was shivering from fever, realized there was no food in the house, and...well let me spare you.  There were tears, a disagreement, a quick trip to the Dollar Store (it's the closest) for soup.  Joe eventually left, though not at his desired pace.  I fed Maddie the lunch that Joe (un?)willingly prepared before his departure.  Then I fed myself so that I could stomach my new meds.  Soon after she ate, I whisked Maddie to bed for her nap and allowed myself to go into full sick mode.

During the nap, a couple things happened that I'm really not proud of.  While hallucinating (Bobby Brown and carnivals) in a super hot bath (it's how I draw out the fever), I had to pee.  I had seriously been in and out of consciousness, having told myself that I'm a light sleeper and that if I go under water I'll probably wake up.  Having to pee helped.  But I really felt like I couldn't physically get out of the tub.  I couldn't fathom the coldness of getting out at that point.  I thought about peeing in the water, but then I'd have to drain the tub because I wasn't that sick.  I needed something to pee in.  And I found it - an empty Suave bottle with a slightly larger opening than most shampoos.  Yes, I would go on to pee in it twice, nearly filling it (22.5oz bottle).  I take my hydration seriously.  Only when I was sweating and thought things were getting borderline dangerous did I get out of the tub.

Once out, I put on a tank top and underwear, turned the air down in the house, and laid on the bed, waiting for the fever to seep out of me.  Alas, after only half an hour, the dogs started barking.  WHAT THE FUCK.  In a flash I was in the living room, half out of it, whisper-yelling and whacking dogs to shut the fuck up.  There is no barking during nap time, god damn it, especially not when mama's sick.  I then laid back down.  More barking, more beating.  Until I saw a dude walking away from the front door.  I assumed it was another city worker living me a notice about the street sealing starting this week, but to be sure, I thought I'd go ahead and close the garage door.  Pantsless still, I popped open the door to the garage so I could quickly hit the button, and who do I see but our big handyman, Marty, standing in the driving.  Yeah.  Pretty sure he saw me.  Since, ya know, he was looking right at me.  Unashamed, I quickly shut the door, threw on a robe and dealt with Marty and his damn work order that he chose to execute that day.

By that time, Maddie was up, and sick mode was done.  I hung on until Joe got home and then pretty much crawled into bed after telling him he had to do everything and that I was sorry.  Later I took my codeine cough syrup and passed out.  Four hours later I woke up and took more (like the bottle says I can).  Maybe that was when I realized I was soaked.  I dunno.  But my fever broke.  I moved to a dry spot in the bed and went back to sleep. 

This morning I woke up groggy but better.  Well enough for Joe not to stay home another morning.  And I jumped right back in it.  I've written about it before, but isn't that the bitch of illnesses sometimes?  You work so hard to get better - piss in bottles, let a handyman see you without pants (or a bra) on, all so you can get back to all the shit you normally have to do.  And to top it off, YOU'RE NOW BEHIND.  So yeah.  In a haze, Maddie and I made it through the day.  And I'll get up and jump right back into it again tomorrow. 

Oh - the sheets I sweat (sweated?) all over last night are still on the bed because who has time to change sheets after missing a whole day of mom work?  Not me.