Friday, May 11, 2012

A post where I feel sorry for myself and then drag Trevor down with me...

Well, if it wasn't official before, it is now.  I am sick.

This time yesterday, I felt leaps and bounds better than I did this time Wednesday.  So, I was planning on going to work today, since I was on the mend and all.

And then last night happened.  You guys, I don't think my throat has ever hurt so bad as it has in the last 24 hours.  It hurts to breathe and talk, never mind swallow.  It doesn't improve while drinking hot teas or frozen smoothies (believe me, I've tried!), and I barely slept a wink last night because - OUCH!

So, regardless of the fact that my overall body felt better, my throat felt worse.  Much, much worse.  And my only option was to call the doctor this morning while driving to work  (have I mentioned how much I hate going to the doctor?).  Turned out, she could work me in to her schedule immediately if I could drive straight to her office.  Which I did after calling my boss and explaining the situation to his voicemail in my newly acquired squeaky voice.

And?  Well, the strep test was negative, but the doctor said my throat was extremely red and raw.  She wasn't convinced what was going on was viral, however, and immediately prescribed antibiotics.  Plus, some of my symptoms (like the neck stiffness I've had since Tuesday and the sudden onset severe throat pain) suggest other possible infections like Mono (no, I've never had it) or even (gasp!) Meningitis.  Not that I have either, but she wanted me on antibiotics just in case.  In her opinion, my throat wasn't going to get anything but worse over the weekend without intervention.  And, hey, if the antibiotics give me some relief, I'm all for it.

(Not that I didn't reconfirm with the doctor, pharmacist AND Banner's pediatrician that the antibiotics were safe to take while breastfeeding.  I'm sick and in pain, but still 100% neurotic.)

The doctor also insisted that I go home, and more or less put me under house arrest for 48 hours.  I even got a fancy doctor's note for my boss emailed to me to forward to him with the word "CONTAGION" in the subject line.  So not kidding.  Made me sound like Typhoid Mary.

So, no work on since Tuesday (although I did do some stuff from home this afternoon) and no Phil Collins tomorrow afternoon.  If it were up to my doctor, I wouldn't attempt to leave the house until Monday morning.  However, if I am lucky, I might just make my baby's baptism on Sunday if I doing nothing but rest and relax today and tomorrow and give the meds a chance to do their thing.  She says by then I won't be contagious anymore regardless, so I only risk wearing myself out.

And if I'm unlucky?  Well, then I am under strict orders to immediately call her personal cell phone.  I have a list of several symptoms that - if they start to occur - might spell real trouble (again, Meningitis!  I don't think it is an actual possibility, but, then again, I am exceptionally unlucky).  But I am going to stay positive and assume that with antibiotics, I am going to do nothing but recover.  Because, quite frankly, I've been sick too long, I'm over it and it is time to move on.

(I say that as I sit here feeling as though I'm swallowing glass every time my mouth fills with saliva.  I even just did a grocery store run to buy some Motrin.  The pediatrician said both Tylenol and Motrin were acceptable pain relievers to take while nursing, but I've had zero relief from Tylenol.  So, I am currently staking all my hopes on ibuprofen.  I could cry I want it to work so bad!  Seriously, worst sore throat EV-VER.  If I weren't so completely disgusted by the idea, I'd totally consider spitting into a cup to avoid having to swallow.  It is THAT kind of bad.)

Plus, it is keeping me from my baby.  He is allowed to have my breast milk, but otherwise the pediatrician told me today that he'd prefer if I kept him at a distance.  Which I find rather confusing since he has definitely been exposed at this point, because - HELLO! - he is drinking a fluid that is coming out of my body!  Apparently, my milk is fine, though.  Even beneficial since he is receiving my antibodies along with everything else.  However, my breathing on him too much or kissing his face or touching his hands is another matter altogether.  So, as if being sick with the sore throat from HELL isn't torture enough, I now get to hang out at home all day with my baby without being able to touch or hold him unnecessarily.  It just kills me.

As does the thought of him coming down with it.  I guess I am officially back to hating the world at this point.

In other news, Trevor backed his rental car into the garage.  I don't know when, but it was sometime in the last ten days.  He has been in a rental since the hail storm did nearly $10,000 worth of damage to his new car, and in this particular rental since he was rear ended in the old rental while sitting at a dead stop on 635 last Tuesday.  The funny thing about the whole situation is that HE thinks the damage to the garage is invisible and that I would never notice (but I did because it is OBVIOUS).  And all these cars he has been driving (including the new car he purchased in October) came with all kinds of fancy-schmancy backup cameras and warning beeps to keep you from hitting things LIKE THE GARAGE while in reverse.  And, yet?!?!

Meanwhile, my car has no camera this or backup that, and I've manage to avoid hitting the garage and the house behind me so far.  Makes you think, doesn't it?

To be fair, though, Trevor claims that the sun was in his eyes.  Which obviously explains why he didn't see the garage or hear the BEEEEEEEEEEP! of the rental's backup sensor telling him he was about to hit a physical structure.

And to think he rolled his eyes when I told him I had taken out an Aflac accident policy on him.  Yeah, and I'M the idiot (says the boy who went through SEVEN bumpers in FIVE YEARS and even managed to hit a TRACTOR not so long ago).

Good thing I love him so much, because sometimes I just look at that boy and stare.  He is special, that one.

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