Ick
May 14, 2008 by milieuofme
So the boy, the wee one, and I are ALL on antibiotic to prevent the onset of the whooping cough AKA pertussis.
They can’t tell if the boy and I actually have it unless they swab our nasal cavity. We declined the testing after watching Grant have it done at the pediatricians office. Plus the results take two days to come back (because they culture the sample pretty much and then see if the bacteria grows) It’s much more likely that we would have it than Grant, since he’s had his vaccines recently. We haven’t, as in the vaccines we had when we were little probably WORE OFF.
Does that make ANY sense? Why do we spend all this time vaccinating our kids if it’s just going to WEAR off, and adults are going to get sick and re-infect the population?
Anyway - I spent the morning, afternoon, and evening at doctors offices and pharmacy. Not fun when you’re feeling like pooh. Then when I laid down last night to sleep I just HURT. I finally got up and stayed up SO blinking late.
Then the boy got up and was like, “WHY ARE YOU UP?” I explained I couldn’t sleep, and he was like, “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW!!!!” I asked if he got up to bitch at me or what? I am exhausted. I would LOVE to sleep…I would love to FEEL better. Can you imagine this conversation between a half awake boy, and a sick sleep deprived wifey?
I know he didn’t mean it, my sickness coincides with the BIGGEST week of the year for him…he’s SWAMPED at work and can’t really be home helping his sick wife. He’s just STRESSED, so much so he had high blood pressure at the walk in clinic yesterday. And I know he knows I didn’t mean it, I was just sick and tired.
Now the wee one and I are laying on the couch watching the Backyardigans catch butterflies. I am pretty sure the blood I just coughed up wasn’t good…AND the four hours of sleep I got last night didn’t exactly fufill my bodies needs.
My goals for the day - feed the Feebus…take a nap…get up to pee. Those are LOFTY LOFTY goals my friends. The Feebus is mad today too. He knows something isn’t right with me, and keeps throwing HUGE fits. I think it freaks him out when I’m not myself, and I feel awful. However there is nothing I can do.
I’m dying, dying, dying…and I do NOT care.
