Seven Days
Feb. 17th, 2005 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dmarleyBehind the cut tags is a huge long post containing gory details about my week. If you wish to skip that, reading the tag text provides much the same information in a more succinct form. :)
Thursday, February 10
Melissa was very sick with a stomach virus today. I was going over anyway to baby-wrangle while she did some drawing, so was luckily on hand to baby-wrangle while she was Not Feeling Well At All. I stayed until![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vaklam got home, which was just in time for the baby to be sick all over Dad's shirt. Virus = 2. Fortunately, the baby illness was a one-time thing, and Mama was feeling much better by the next day. Hurrah!
Friday, February 11
Boo wakes me up at 8:30, which is very early for her these days. She's making her "I'm actually very tired and want to go back to sleep" cry, but after waiting to see if she can manage it I hear the magic word "Mommy." I go in, and she tells me her tummy hurts. Uh-oh.
Of course, I don't put this together right away with the previous night's illness of her play-buddy. I think maybe she's just hungry (denial can be so plausible), but she doesn't want to eat, she just wants orange juice and to curl up on Mommy's lap. I put her back to bed around 9:30, and she sleeps until 1. When I go to get her, sure enough, there's a certain eau de vomit on her jammies. Virus = 3.
Did I mention that when I came home the night before, Greebo was having some trouble peeing? He was passing urine, but it seemed to be taking some effort, and there was a definite trip to the vet on the schedule for the day. So, I pack up the cat, collect the Boo, and we set off. I drop off Greebo at the vet's, then drive to the new location of Boo's pediatrician. Before we moved, her pediatrician was two miles down the road. Then we moved 20 minutes further away. Then *they* moved 10 minutes in the other direction. So, with the vet detour, it's a good hour getting there.
The good news is that Boo doesn't seem to have anything terribly serious. No fever, just a few tummy grumbles. She hasn't been sick again, so we're supposed to keep her on a clear liquid diet for a few hours, then try bland food, and so on.
Greebo, however, is not in such good shape. His bladder isn't distented, but it's hard as a rock, and the vet thinks he has an infection. We'd taken him off his post-FUS antibiotics because he was throwing up, but now the vet says he needs some kind of antibiotic stat, and needs to be strictly kept to his prescription cat food diet.
So, I meet Al, swap cats and babies, and head home. I pull into my driveway, turn off my engine...and the lights flash a few times and the car dies. Completely. Nothing is working, not the lights, the horn, the door locks, nothing. I use the key to unlock the door, in case the alarm needs to be disarmed, but that does nothing. I get out, shut the door...and the lights flash again, and all starts working. When I try to start the car, it all goes dead again. I give up, and go inside.
Saturday, February 12
I wake up at 6am feeling very, very nauseous. Yep, it's my turn. Virus = 4. I start throwing up at 7am, and don't stop until I go to the ER at 4pm to get an IV for dehydration and meds for the nausea and other, er, fluid losses. Because it wasn't just nausea, oh, no... Al and Boo have to come with me to the ER, since I can't drive, but when it becomes clear that I'm going to be there a while, Al takes Boo home andpktheater comes to get me when they release me. Friends give you rides. True friends give you rides from the ER, drive gently, and pull over three times so you can not-throw-up on the side of the road. And yes, pktheater, I think the Lysol was a very good idea.
As soon as I get home and lie down, though, things look up. The nausea is going away, and it and the other bodily functions are under control of medication. Yay! I go to sleep.
Sunday, February 13
At 4am, I wake up with violent chills, chattering teeth, and all over signs of a lovely high fever. We can't find the thermometer, but based on previous temperatures I think it was probably 102 or so. I take some ibuprofen, Al finds all the spare blankets to put over me, and I wonder if it's possible to pull a muscle just from shivering. Luckily, I never find out. The fever breaks after about forty-five minutes, and I sleep until 1 in the afternoon.
As soon as I wake up, I realize that I have to call my mother, because she'll kill me if I went to the ER and didn't tell her. I page the portable phone, and Al comes in with it, saying, "Call your mother." Turns out she'd called while I was asleep and, upon learning about said ER visit, had given orders that Boo was to be delivered to her forthwith. Yay for moms!
Monday, February 14
I sleep until 1 again, and wake feeling cautiously better. My tummy still protests solid food, and the heat of my first shower since Friday morning doesn't agree with it either. But I still have nifty drugs for that, so a recurrance of Saturday's vomithon is averted. Spent the day in bed, reading Unfinished Tales and playing MacMines. The fever came and went, but being tired of letting things run their course, I guzzle ibuprofen and sleep a lot.
Tuesday, February 15
My stepfather calls around 11 to tell me that my mother has come down with the virus. Virus = 5. She's only had one bout of vomiting, luckily, and has been able to control the symptoms with meds, but she's obviously going to be laid up and not in shape for Boo-tending. I'm still running a fever and in no condition to drive over and pick Boo up, so I line up my dad to bring her back to Nashville the following day.
Naturally, I'm suffering severe guilt pangs about having infected my mother. I would have thought that she couldn't get it from hundreds of miles away, but I suppose I must have breathed on Al or something and he passed it along. Or she got it from Boo. In any case it seems like she doesn't have it as badly as I did, which is good, but she's in her mid-60s and diabetic. So, guilt.
Wednesday, February 16
Dad brings Boo back around noon, and beats a tactful, yet swift retreat from the Plague House. Even if I feel like crap, it's nice having Boo back. Unfortunately, we're both having allergy problems, and take a nice long late afternoon nap. Al has to work tonight, so I'm flying solo, and I come to the unfortunate realization that I'm not really capable of taking full care of a toddler. Moving around and talking makes me sick to my stomach, and I'm just too tired to do everything I'd normally do. Still, I muddle through by dint of not bothering to clean up after anything and lying down and letting Boo run rampant through the house. The good news is that I seem to be able to eat more normally, despite the lingering nausea. Still feverish, though.
Then the lady who looks after Boo on Thursdays calls. She's got the flu. Luckily, I can make arrangements for Boo to stay with Jim's mom during the day. Yay for moms! As today has shown, I'm not much use as a caregiver yet.
Thursday, February 17
Since I don't feel safe getting behind the wheel of a car (my car mysteriously repaired itself, did I mention that?), Al goes in to work a half-hour early, and takes an extra half-hour for an early lunch to come home and drive Boo the mile and a half to Jim and Jamie's place. Urgh. I'm really wanting to get well now, thanks.
I called my mom to find out how she was, and she wasn't home. Turns out she went to the beauty parlor, then was going on to work. My guess is she's feeling better. :)
My temperature is the closest to normal it's been since Saturday, so I'm hoping the end is in sight. I've been living off bananas, Gatorade, and the occasional microwavable chicken dinner, so I'm kind of ready to return to eating without having to analyze whether it will upset my tummy. Here's hoping.
(I'm almost afraid to send this, for fear that the virus will infect the electrons through my keyboard and infest my friends-list. *Sprays f-list with disinfectant*)
Thursday, February 10
Melissa was very sick with a stomach virus today. I was going over anyway to baby-wrangle while she did some drawing, so was luckily on hand to baby-wrangle while she was Not Feeling Well At All. I stayed until
vaklam got home, which was just in time for the baby to be sick all over Dad's shirt. Virus = 2. Fortunately, the baby illness was a one-time thing, and Mama was feeling much better by the next day. Hurrah!Friday, February 11
Boo wakes me up at 8:30, which is very early for her these days. She's making her "I'm actually very tired and want to go back to sleep" cry, but after waiting to see if she can manage it I hear the magic word "Mommy." I go in, and she tells me her tummy hurts. Uh-oh.
Of course, I don't put this together right away with the previous night's illness of her play-buddy. I think maybe she's just hungry (denial can be so plausible), but she doesn't want to eat, she just wants orange juice and to curl up on Mommy's lap. I put her back to bed around 9:30, and she sleeps until 1. When I go to get her, sure enough, there's a certain eau de vomit on her jammies. Virus = 3.
Did I mention that when I came home the night before, Greebo was having some trouble peeing? He was passing urine, but it seemed to be taking some effort, and there was a definite trip to the vet on the schedule for the day. So, I pack up the cat, collect the Boo, and we set off. I drop off Greebo at the vet's, then drive to the new location of Boo's pediatrician. Before we moved, her pediatrician was two miles down the road. Then we moved 20 minutes further away. Then *they* moved 10 minutes in the other direction. So, with the vet detour, it's a good hour getting there.
The good news is that Boo doesn't seem to have anything terribly serious. No fever, just a few tummy grumbles. She hasn't been sick again, so we're supposed to keep her on a clear liquid diet for a few hours, then try bland food, and so on.
Greebo, however, is not in such good shape. His bladder isn't distented, but it's hard as a rock, and the vet thinks he has an infection. We'd taken him off his post-FUS antibiotics because he was throwing up, but now the vet says he needs some kind of antibiotic stat, and needs to be strictly kept to his prescription cat food diet.
So, I meet Al, swap cats and babies, and head home. I pull into my driveway, turn off my engine...and the lights flash a few times and the car dies. Completely. Nothing is working, not the lights, the horn, the door locks, nothing. I use the key to unlock the door, in case the alarm needs to be disarmed, but that does nothing. I get out, shut the door...and the lights flash again, and all starts working. When I try to start the car, it all goes dead again. I give up, and go inside.
Saturday, February 12
I wake up at 6am feeling very, very nauseous. Yep, it's my turn. Virus = 4. I start throwing up at 7am, and don't stop until I go to the ER at 4pm to get an IV for dehydration and meds for the nausea and other, er, fluid losses. Because it wasn't just nausea, oh, no... Al and Boo have to come with me to the ER, since I can't drive, but when it becomes clear that I'm going to be there a while, Al takes Boo home and
pktheater comes to get me when they release me. Friends give you rides. True friends give you rides from the ER, drive gently, and pull over three times so you can not-throw-up on the side of the road. And yes, pktheater, I think the Lysol was a very good idea.As soon as I get home and lie down, though, things look up. The nausea is going away, and it and the other bodily functions are under control of medication. Yay! I go to sleep.
Sunday, February 13
At 4am, I wake up with violent chills, chattering teeth, and all over signs of a lovely high fever. We can't find the thermometer, but based on previous temperatures I think it was probably 102 or so. I take some ibuprofen, Al finds all the spare blankets to put over me, and I wonder if it's possible to pull a muscle just from shivering. Luckily, I never find out. The fever breaks after about forty-five minutes, and I sleep until 1 in the afternoon.
As soon as I wake up, I realize that I have to call my mother, because she'll kill me if I went to the ER and didn't tell her. I page the portable phone, and Al comes in with it, saying, "Call your mother." Turns out she'd called while I was asleep and, upon learning about said ER visit, had given orders that Boo was to be delivered to her forthwith. Yay for moms!
Monday, February 14
I sleep until 1 again, and wake feeling cautiously better. My tummy still protests solid food, and the heat of my first shower since Friday morning doesn't agree with it either. But I still have nifty drugs for that, so a recurrance of Saturday's vomithon is averted. Spent the day in bed, reading Unfinished Tales and playing MacMines. The fever came and went, but being tired of letting things run their course, I guzzle ibuprofen and sleep a lot.
Tuesday, February 15
My stepfather calls around 11 to tell me that my mother has come down with the virus. Virus = 5. She's only had one bout of vomiting, luckily, and has been able to control the symptoms with meds, but she's obviously going to be laid up and not in shape for Boo-tending. I'm still running a fever and in no condition to drive over and pick Boo up, so I line up my dad to bring her back to Nashville the following day.
Naturally, I'm suffering severe guilt pangs about having infected my mother. I would have thought that she couldn't get it from hundreds of miles away, but I suppose I must have breathed on Al or something and he passed it along. Or she got it from Boo. In any case it seems like she doesn't have it as badly as I did, which is good, but she's in her mid-60s and diabetic. So, guilt.
Wednesday, February 16
Dad brings Boo back around noon, and beats a tactful, yet swift retreat from the Plague House. Even if I feel like crap, it's nice having Boo back. Unfortunately, we're both having allergy problems, and take a nice long late afternoon nap. Al has to work tonight, so I'm flying solo, and I come to the unfortunate realization that I'm not really capable of taking full care of a toddler. Moving around and talking makes me sick to my stomach, and I'm just too tired to do everything I'd normally do. Still, I muddle through by dint of not bothering to clean up after anything and lying down and letting Boo run rampant through the house. The good news is that I seem to be able to eat more normally, despite the lingering nausea. Still feverish, though.
Then the lady who looks after Boo on Thursdays calls. She's got the flu. Luckily, I can make arrangements for Boo to stay with Jim's mom during the day. Yay for moms! As today has shown, I'm not much use as a caregiver yet.
Thursday, February 17
Since I don't feel safe getting behind the wheel of a car (my car mysteriously repaired itself, did I mention that?), Al goes in to work a half-hour early, and takes an extra half-hour for an early lunch to come home and drive Boo the mile and a half to Jim and Jamie's place. Urgh. I'm really wanting to get well now, thanks.
I called my mom to find out how she was, and she wasn't home. Turns out she went to the beauty parlor, then was going on to work. My guess is she's feeling better. :)
My temperature is the closest to normal it's been since Saturday, so I'm hoping the end is in sight. I've been living off bananas, Gatorade, and the occasional microwavable chicken dinner, so I'm kind of ready to return to eating without having to analyze whether it will upset my tummy. Here's hoping.
(I'm almost afraid to send this, for fear that the virus will infect the electrons through my keyboard and infest my friends-list. *Sprays f-list with disinfectant*)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-18 12:40 am (UTC)The aliens are softening us up for their eventual invasion. Damn them.