Ohhhh Dear

For the first time since I started this blog more than a year and a half ago, I ran into some unforseen circumstances.  I am guilty of neglect.  Please take the following as an attempt at an explanation and NOT as an excuse or rant.

On Friday night/Saturday morning, I felt exhausted and achy.  I thought this was just that end-of-the-week-fall-asleep-on-the-couch feeling I get every now and then, topped off with a little extra helping of stress.  It turns out that at that point my body was already in a big fight with a nasty little bug (of the illness kind, not the insect kind). 

By Sunday, I was out of it in every way possible.  I couldn't eat or sleep, I was simultaneously sweating and shaking, I had a runny nose, I was hacking up a lung every two minutes, and I was in a bad place.  I tried my trusty chocolate milkshake fix, but that idea quickly went down the drain... literally... and into a trash can or two along the way.  Yet, I was still trying to convince Tom that I would NOT take a sick day on Monday.  I was upset with him for even suggesting such an idea because I do not take sick days.  I think I got this from my parents. 

After I fell over and shouted "Dad!" into the kitchen, Tom realized he had a better case than I did.  At that point, he took my temperature, and I was at a cool 104 degrees.  Yikes.  He made the call, wrote down some lesson plans that I tried to dictate, and put me to bed with multiple glasses of water.

When things did not improve all day Monday, I went into the doctor in the afternoon.  The nurse took my temperature, gave me a look, and said, "I bet you feel like you got hit by a truck!"  Those had been my exact words for the past two days, and I felt strangely pleased and validated.  The only hypochondriac part of me is the part where I believe I'm a hypochondriac when I'm not.  Does that make sense?  I always think I'm not really sick, and I need evidence to prove actual illness before I think am allowed to feel it.  Therefore, I was happy to have the doctor and nurse tell me that I was, in fact, nasty sick (not their exact words).  I was also glad to have Tom hear this (as if he didn't believe me... he was the one who had to convince me I was ill in the first place).  I know it's weird.  I can't help it.  This visit was also productive because I got a good prescription, and Tom, my wonderful caretaker, got a preventative prescription in case he caught my death.

With the help of LOTS of sleep, tons of water, a couple of snow days, and two pills per day, I am slowly on the road to recovery.  I have reintroduced grapes, toast, and mini bowls of soup back into my diet.  Next stop... all other foods.  There's still some hacking, some Rudolph nose, and no appetite, but I'm back to my regular life and so thankful for that!!  There are a bunch of other things I'm thankful for that I'd like to catch you up on this weekend.  Short story long, I will not let this poor old blog be neglected anymore.

Back at it tomorrow... :)


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