Twas Brillig

Well, I went to the doctor on Friday, after having the night from hell. I suspected strep, since it’s the only thing I knew of that could go from sore throat to puking and back to sore throat again. (”Sore throat” doesn’t even really seem to scratch the surface of what this feels like!) Fortunately, my dear mother-in-law watched the kiddos for me so that I could go a little more easily.

On my way, I decided to stop in at my old house to gather some more stuff up and I was going to clean out the van and get the oil changed (just because a girl is sicker than a dog doesn’t mean she doesn’t have things that simply must be done!) Upon arriving at the “old house,” I had to go to the bathroom–and thank goodness I did! Heretofore unbeknownst to me, I was covered in blood. Sweet little Aunt Flo had picked just this moment to express herself–all over my jeans. I had no back-up for such a thing. It was totally unexpected. I haven’t had a real period since my latest miscarriage three months ago. I felt like I was in Jr. High school again. What to do? I couldn’t go out like this, but I couldn’t just not go to the doc either!

I scoured the basement to see if somehow I’d left anything wearable. Finally I found something. An old box full of clothes that I was way too familiar with.

My maternity clothes.

In desperation, I found something that hopefully didn’t make me look too pregnant (though with my current configuration of body fat, I pretty much look pregnant all the time…) and off I went to the doc.

After sitting in the waiting room for a FULL HOUR, I was seen. The friendly nurse stuck her little magic wand into my ear and cheerfully announced that I had no fever.

I considered beating her to a bloody pulp.

Because even the slightest touch to my forehead would confirm that I did indeed have a TERRIBLE fever.

Stupid nurse. But the doctor was actually really great. She commented on my obvious fever, and even said, “oh wow. Oh WOW!!!” while she looked at my throat. Somehow I needed that validation! I needed her to look at me and say, “of COURSE you feel like crap! You’re SICK!” In the end, it was determined that both of my ears are infected and I do, indeed, have strep.

I called Hubby with the news, and learned that he too was feeling sick and had a sore throat. He wasn’t nearly to the stage that I was, but I still made him go to the instacare on the way home and get tested for strep so that he could start on an antibiotic before he got too much worse. His strep test came up negative, but the doc gave him a prescription of antibiotics anyway because if he had a fever and a sore throat and his wife had strep, what were the chances that he didn’t?

Yesterday we went to a big family party at Hubby’s parents’ house–a Father’s Day celebration. I didn’t think I could miss it. By the time we came home, after hours of chasing and disciplining children, cooking, setting up chairs, socializing in those high-pitched cheery “oh-you’re-so-darling” tones, cleaning up, and single handedly washing all of the dishes, I was dead. Though I do not have first-hand experience, I suspect that I felt the way one might feel after cooking in a microwave for a few hours.

Therefore, wasn’t it a lovely treat that Scooby decided that he too was sick last night. Hubby was up with him for the first half of the night and I took my shift for the second half. He screamed and screamed and tugged at his ears. His skin felt like a furnace.

So this morning, when my other dear children “pleasantly” surprised me by waking up at the crack of dawn, I knew that I’d have to make some phone calls and take Scooby in to the doctor–an adventure that seemed absolutely unconquerable, since I didn’t feel like I could even put one foot in front of the other, let alone haul four little ones all the way across town.

But it had to be done, so I did it.

And wouldn’t you just know it, that by the time we got to the doctor’s office, he’d made a miraculous recovery. POOF! In what can hardly be called an “examination,” the doctor determined that he had no fever, no sore throat, no sore ears. “Call us if he acts sick,” she said, trying not to sound condescending (but failing). With an office full of doctors and nurses staring at me with that look of, “why did she even bring him in here?” I trotted off with my healthy children.

Of course, now that he’s home, he has a fever.

Gotta love it.

Oh, and that pile of hair on the floor? Yah, that’s mine. I’m ripping it out by the handfuls right about now…