It's Official - I'm Getting Sick

Each September, I get sick.  I don't know if it's allergies attacking me, germs my kid brings home from school, or what, but it never fails that I get downright ill at some point during September.  I've had a few scares this month with getting ill in a 24 hour period or getting a scratchy throat that never turned into something worse, but it all resolved itself fairly quickly enough that I thought I might, just might, slip past the month of September without getting too ill.  But this past weekend, I noticed I was feeling more tired, irritable and discombobulated than normal.  Then yesterday, I felt like I was moving in a fog.  And now today I've started with the coughing, phlegm in my chest, runny nose, body hurting all over, mildly feverish and just generally feeling like crapola.  September, why do you keep doing this to me?!?!?

May I go home and crawl into bed now, please?  Or better yet, would someone please shoot me and then resurrect me when the germs all go away?

Breathing Underwater

I kind of fizzled over the weekend. That seems to have become a pattern with me; I bust my butt all week at work, can't sleep nights, then wind up crashing (and usually having some sort of illness) over the weekends. This past weekend was no different. I've been battling a sinus infection for a while, and it apparently has decided it wants to move into my lungs. I've felt like I've been breathing underwater for days.

There for a while, my sinus infection seemed to be doing better. Mama Tooz and Daddy Dave gave me a nasal asperating thingie (basically a neti pot, but less breakable) and I was using it daily. Then parts of it disappeared. I used it one morning, handwashed the innards of it, and laid them out to dry. Jamie got home before me and started doing dishes, as he'd been instructed. Normally, I'd be jumping up and down for joy that he actually did something he was supposed to. But when I came home from work, the innards were missing. We didn't see them on the floor, couldn't see them in the crack between the dishwasher and refrigerator.... Nowhere. Since he lost the top and the tube that carries the saline from the bottle up to and through my nose, it is now unusable. A couple of days later, the infection started kicking in with a vengeance, then migrated south to my lungs.

Because I've felt craptastic all weekend, Jamie got to help me do some necessary fixes around the house. The funky, spinny, roof vent thingamabobbers had come off their spindles, and the wind blew them off their holes at about a 45-degree angle. This meant that any rain could get into the attic, possibly causing mold. Unfortunately, there is also a hole in the garage ceiling that is right below one of the roof spinny thingies, and under that hole in the ceiling is where the washer and dryer (and, ergo, the electrical outlets for the washer and dryer) sit. Rain would not be a good thing to introduce to the electrical outlets. We were forecasted to receive (and did receive) rain over the weekend and into this week. So, we borrowed a ladder from the neighbor, and under my close supervision, Jamie got to go up and fix them for me.

Of course, "supervision" meant I took pictures of him up there, and made sure he didn't fall completely off the roof should be come tumbing down. He was very excited and enthusiastic about being up there. Considering I was several years younger than him when my brother and I used to beat the crap out of each other with cane poles on the ridgeline of our three story house, I didn't see much harm in him climbing up on a single story house to fix the doohickeys.

Fixing doohicky number 1

Fixing doohicky number 2

He was much more enthusiastic about getting up there and looking around the neighborhood than he was about getting down. When it came time for him to swing his legs around and feel for the ladder, he announced emphatically, "I'm just going to stay up here. I don't want to get down. I don't want to get down! I can't get down! You can't make me!" By this point he was screaming, while I was snickering (and coughing) into my sleeve. Finally, I was able to get him down with minimal screaming and no destruction of gutters, roof, ladder or boy. I then rewarded him with a cup of hot chocolate.

Other than that, we did nothing all weekend. Food consisted of soup and sandwiches and whatever else Jamie could fix himself. I'm marginally better today (well, better enough to come to work). I'm hoping Mucinex will loosen enough of this crud to get it all out. I can't afford to go to the doctor, so I'll be fighting this with OTC medicines and spicy food to clear out the sinuses.
Jamie's spring break is next week, so I'm hoping to be feeling well enough that we actually get to do something on his spring break, instead of me spending my vacation days at home in bed, being miserable.

Not the Best Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday, and it wasn't the best one I've ever had, I have to say. First, Jamie is still sick, so there's all the worry about getting him feeling better (and all the whining and clingyness I have to deal with because he doesn't feel good), and then there's the fact that I still had to go to work. Then, when I get to work, I find out I'm going to have to stay late. I was originally told it would only be about 30 minutes. NOT! I worked 2.5 hours later than normal because we had a report that had to be turned in that day for a legal case. Grrrrr!

Then, when I got home, I had to help Jamie type up and submit via e-mail the school assignments that he didn't turn in when he was supposed to. This is the end of the grading period, so everything had to be in by today. If he had been well enough to go to school, he could have turned them in then, but I'm keeping him home again to allow him to completely get over the crud he has, as well as to not pick up more germs while he's still trying to fight off something else. Anyway, this kept me up until around midnight.

Then, this morning, I discovered that the poor, sweet kitten that I've been feeding at work and trying to find a home for had been hit by a car and killed. I couldn't take her home because 1) I'm severely allergic and so is Jamie, 2) our dogs would have eaten her alive. I tried taking her to a no-kill shelter, but they didn't have any room. The city pound is so overrun with strays that it euthanizes all unadopted animals after only 3 days, so I couldn't take her there! I had found a program that would have come and picked her up, but they couldn't come out to get her until next week. So now it is too late for that poor, sweet baby. She was not a baby-baby kitten, but wasn't full grown yet, either. She was very sweet and friendly, obviously domesticated. She just showed up one day about a month or so ago. Two weeks ago she disappeared, and I was hoping someone had taken her home. But I kept putting food and water out for her, just in case. Then this morning, she was hit right in front of my office building, right where I could see her laying in the road from my desk. I cried like a baby when I saw her!

Now I'm all head-achy and feeling discombobulated. I hope it's just from the crying, and not because I'm coming down with whatever Jamie has. When I get home tonight, I'm parking my butt on the couch and not moving unless I absolutely have to. Hopefully that will shake this tired, achy, sad feeling.

I'm sorry this is such a down post. And all those who sent me facebook birthday wishes, I haven't forgotten you, and I sincerely appreciate your wishing me a happy birthday. Love to all, and I promise to try to be in a better mood when I post next time.

Sick

Here we go again. Jamie is sick - coughing (so hard he throws up sometimes), sneezing, achy all over, headache, and a slight fever. Could be a cold, could be flu. I kept him home today to monitor his symptoms, and also so that he wouldn't pick up any other germs due to a weakened immune system. If he does not improve, I'll take him to the doctor. But for now, I'm just pushing fluids and keeping an eye on things.

Knitting Needles and Stomach Viruses

Inspired by Tooz' craftiness when she came to visit, I went to Wally World and bought one of those "teach yourself to knit" kits that comes with two sets of knitting needles, an instruction book, and some tools for knitting that I have no clue what they're for yet. Anyhoo, I decided I wanted to learn to knit. I struggled for several days to figure out what the heck the instructions meant (those illustrations look NOTHING like what the yarn in my hands was actually doing), and finally had success! Yay! I then looked over and noticed that Jamie had calmly taken over the second set of knitting needles and taught himself how to cast on, and is in the process of teaching himself how to add rows. So we now have an activity we do together. Which is good, because for the past two days, we've been home together, hibernating and shivering our way through fevers and a stomach virus while the rest of the world is at work and/or school. We sleep for a while, get some fresh OJ and some soup, knit for a little while, go back to sleep for a while, take stomach medicine and fever reducer, then start the cycle over again with a nap. I'm happy to report that we are both now sufficiently recovered to go to work and school tomorrow. Knitting together has been nice, and (although neither of us will win any prizes for what we've started making) plan to keep at it. It's nice to look down at something and be able to say, "Hey, I made this with my very own hands!" It's also been a great confidence booster to Jamie that he was able to figure out quite easily something Mommy had to struggle with!

2/5/09 Update:

As I was leaving for work this morning, I realized I've only just begun to knit (and haven't even started doing it well yet), but I have already started falling prey to a knitting vice. I've already got the beginnings of a stash of yarn. I'm still learning to knit, have no completed projects and no way of completing anything (since I still don't know how to do anything other than a knit stitch and have yet to figure out how to bind off a row), yet I already have two partial skeins left over from Tooz's visit, two small skeins of cotton in a pretty green and white variation (got on sale for $1 each!), a full skein of a deep teal yarn made from recycled soda bottles, two skeins of a nice chunky yarn in a rich brown variegation, and Jamie insisted on his own skein of a bright bright BRIGHT red. Oh well, at least this gives me lots of options of what yarn I want to mess up by continuously knitting and frogging it!

Update on the Health of a Small Boy

Things are not going so good down here, folks. Jamie went to his pediatric gastroenterologist yesterday, and I'm not at all encouraged by recent developments. We went down there and took the doc Jamie's test results stating that he was positive for H. Pylori (that nasty little bug we'd discussed in an earlier blog post). The doctor made a few noncommittal "hmms" and "uh-huhs" at that. The he asked Jamie again where his stomach hurts when he has pain. Jamie showed him (near the belly button). The the doctor asked me how severe the pain seemed to be. I said, "Bad enough that he's literally on the floor screaming, curled up in a ball, which prompted me to take him to the E.R., where he had those tests," I said, pointing to the lab results we'd brought down with us.

Then the doctor starts poking around on Jamie's stomach, and gets a funny look on his face. He turns to me and, rapid-fire, starts asking me questions. "Does he have headaches? Has he been vomiting? Has he been less energetic than usual?" Of course, the answers were "yes, yes, and yes". Then he says, "okay, I'm ordering a endoscopy and a biopsy. My first opening is in two weeks, and we need to do it then. We should not wait."

Am I missing something here? The more I think back on things, Jamie didn't start having his migraines until after his stomach issues started back last year. Jamie has either thrown up or almost thrown up every single day for the past month. Jamie does not run around with as much gusto as he used to, and he is still tired when I wake him up in the morning, no matter how early he went to bed the night before.

Naturally, I ask the doctor what's going on. And, of course, he doesn't give me any answer other than a noncommittal, "I want to check some things out." Grrrrrr! I know, I know, doctors don't like to scare their patients (or the mommas of their patients) with "maybes". But still, he's freaked me out more by his reaction and complete change in his demeanor from previous visits. Also, it doesn't help that - with so many close family members who have died from some form of cancer or another - that possibility is always lurking in the back of my mind, a dark spectre that haunts my dreams and constantly has me checking over my shoulder.

Another thing that doesn't help is that, as the nurse explained to me, I can't be there with Jamie when they're doing the endoscopy. I can't stay with him and hold his hand. I know he'll be asleep, but I would still rather be there with my baby while they do the procedure. Sitting there in the waiting room will be torture for me. Then, the nurse just HAD to run down the list of possible things that could go wrong during the procedure. For liability reasons, I know she was required to inform me before the procedure, but still. Can you please not make me more paranoid than I already am? Please?

I know there are several of us in the blogosphere who have some serious family and/or health issues going on right now, but I would appreciate thoughts, prayers, positivity, whatever you want to call it, on July 1. Love you all, and you are all in my prayers.

Dang! Poor Kid!

Jamie's spring break got off to a bang of a bad sort this year. Friday, he was fine and dandy - went to soccer practice, played with his friend Josh until 9 p.m., and was generally having a grand time. Saturday morning, Jamie woke up with a fever of 102.1. Despite alternating between Tylenol and Ibuprofen, his fever continued all day, spiking up to 105.9 at 11:00 p.m. Saturday night. Poor kid was burning up with fever so bad he was shaking and couldn't stop. I called the NurseWise hotline, and was told to immediately take Jamie to the ER, "Do not pass go, Do not collect $200" as the nurse said.

So we get to the ER, fill out the paperwork, then wait for a nurse to call us to triage. After an hour waiting just to see a nurse, they finally called us back to have his temperature taken and blood pressure checked. His pulse was extremely fast and thready, his blood pressure was too high for a 10 year old and the poor kid was having trouble breathing. His fever, however, had gone down slightly to 104.7. The nurse gave him a triple dose of Tylenol to help bring his fever down faster, then told us to wait for a doctor to see us. Another two hours goes by before we're called to see a doctor. By this time, Jamie's temperature has gone down to only 103.4. They immediately took Jamie off for x-rays, then brought him back and hooked him up to an IV and took a bunch of blood for tests. At this point, his fever had dropped to 102.

After another hour and a half (and three popsicles kindly provided by an awesome ER nurse), they came back and said it was a cold. Excuse me? Since when do colds cause fevers hot enough to boil your brain cells? Apparently, now they do. There's even strains of colds that can kill you. Ugh! The particular strain of cold Jamie has can also morph into pneumonia, which, as Jamie's doctor informed me yesterday, it has. So, poor kid is home sick with pneumonia on his spring break.

I spent Monday and Tuesday of this week home with him, but came back to work today. I got Jamie's fever to come down and stay down under 100, so I felt confident coming to work and leaving him home alone. After all, I don't leave for work until 8:27 in the morning, I'm home for 45 minutes at noon, then Rachel gets home at 3:00 from school. Also, I'm only 2 blocks (and three minutes) from the house. Still, I feel really bad for him. He was supposed to have soccer camp this week (didn't happen), and now he has a really nasty cough, stuffed up nose, body aches, sore throat and a headache. If his fever stays broken for 24 hours, I think a trip to Build-a-Bear will be in order for the poor little booger.

Oh, and that nasty cold? Jamie gave it to Rachel. I just hope hers doesn't turn into pneumonia, too. So far (knock on wood), I have yet to be felled by this nasty bug. Let's hope it stays that way!