You will survive the doctor says. I sit on the edge of the exam table on a Saturday afternoon. I can’t believe I got an appointment. Just drop me off, I tell Alan. Take the kids to the park. I’ll figure out what to do after. I’m sick again, or having a relapse, maybe rheumatic fever. Maybe I’m just PMS’ing, perimenopause, maybe menopause. I say this to the doctor. I wipe tears off my face. I’m sorry, I’m just breaking down. The nurse took my blood pressure twice, its low, 84 over 55. Same both times. It looks like this has happened before. She says reading my chart. When she leaves the exam room I start to cry. I hope they don’t keep me, I hope I don’t get rheumatic fever or congestive heart failure. Hearts aren’t strong in my family. That’s why I’m taking the celexa. Do you ever meditate? The doctor asks me. I think it would help a lot, she says. I did before. Before Jack and Fiona were born. I tell her. I’ve started going to Yoga again recently, but haven’t been in a month because of this stupid sickness, cough, sinus infection, never ending. How old are your kids? The doctor asks. Three and a half. Yup, do they go to daycare? Yes, I say. You will be sick until they are six she tells me. So, I’m not dying? No, and you can’t get Rheumatic fever since you took the MOX anyhow. My grandpa had rheumatic fever, it kept him from going to d-day she tells me. Everyone in his battalion died. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for rheumatic fever. The doctor tells me. Wow! I say. I tell her how my grandma used to tell us the story of having rheumatic fever when she was a child. How it affected her life. They didn’t have the antibiotics until 1965 says the doctor. There’s always drama around those stories she says. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you are sick with the responsibility of having to take care of kids. Get some rest, drink a hot toddy, and start meditating. Doctors parting words.
Tag: being sick
-
I sit on my bed, Thursday afternoon. The house is quiet, Jack and Fiona are asleep. I went to my studio for an hour, painted everything I worked on the other day white. I worked on my notebook pages. I start to cough and feel depressed. The flu can cause depression, I read this on the internet. I decide to come inside, rest. Yesterday I woke up in the morning, my eyes bulging with pain, behind my ears hurt so bad I almost threw up. I called my husband, he could be home by 4:00pm. I had to make it through the day on my own with Jack and Fiona. My legs weak, I had a hard time walking from one location to another as Jack and Fiona called me, “Play with me mommy”. Jack mostly watched T.V. and Fiona stuck by my side all day. While I was still in the process of trying to beat this monster that crept into my body to wreak havoc, I took my vitamins, ate cantaloupe, drank lots of water, and did a kids Yoga video with Fiona. My back, arms, legs so stiff and sore as I went into Childs Pose. Fiona held my hand when we did Tree Pose and airplane. I knew that I was going to recover, I still was scared. I was scared to be alone with my children when I was so sick. I felt myself going into some strange survival mode. As I ate the cantaloupe I felt the juice run down my throat, it felt so nourishing. Fiona and I made a smoothie, she cut the banana, put in the protein powder, turned on the blender, she was so proud.
Last night, after Alan was home, I came down to bed. Fiona wanted to come with me. At first Alan tried to stop her. She cried the kind of cry that shows true disappointment. I said, it’s O.K., she can come with me. “Can I sleep in your bed with you?” Fiona asked. “Yes” I say. My body aches, I can’t get comfortable. Fiona starts to bring animals, horses, the Glass Pig, she brings me pretend food. She talks to me and asks me questions. She doesn’t have her hearing aids on and I’m too tired to talk loud or repeat what I’ve said or use sign. I just say “yes” and “thank you” and that suffices. My bed is soft and cozy. Jack played upstairs with Alan the whole time. Fiona took care of me. It was comforting. I remembered myself alone with the flu. When Fiona was talking to me so much I thought maybe I should have her go, be alone. But I decided to let her stay. I enjoyed her company. I remembered the times I went home from work and jumped in bed. I don’t remember missing anyone to take care of me or keep me company. I thought about the times before Alan and I had kids and he took care of me. I thought about my mom and how she took care of me. My mom died very young and healthy, (except for the massive heart attack). I never had the experience of taking care of an aging parent, but Jack and Fiona will. I think they know intuitively that I will die before them. How depressing am I? Fevers and sickness always remind me of my mortality, of my limited energy. I always get a little bit sad the next day when my fever is gone but I still feel tired but the laundries pilling up and there’s calls to make and e-mails to respond to but I can’t.
Jack and Fiona will be up soon from their nap. I hope to be a good mom and wife tonight, to cook a nice dinner and not stress. Be fully present and available. Every moment counts.
-
In the corner of my left eye I see Blue Bear in the laundry hamper. Not the original old stinky Blue, but the new soft clean blue I bought as a backup. I wanted to reach down, pick him up, and cuddle him while I laid down in my bed. I wanted a Blue Bear, something to comfort me like the babies have. It’s been a rough week. On Wednesday I came down with sickness number one. A horrible, painful, gastrointestinal thing that left me with a swollen colon. I dealt with it, I mean there was a moment I thought my organs would burst and I was dying and that I lay crying wondering how I was going to take care of Jack and Fiona. I also thought for a minute that I was imagining the whole thing. Maybe it was all in my head? Maybe I was under more stress than I thought and I was going crazy again. But I went to the doctor and he said he’s seen many patients with this same bug. He was pleased with my health, was that is, because when he sees my blood test results today he ain’t gonna be too happy with me anymore. I had my blood drawn Saturday morning, the usual tests, CBC, Glucose, and Cholesterol. I thought I had been doing good but my cholesterol is the highest it’s ever been in my life. This used to really scare me because of my family history of heart attacks, this time I’m not going to let it get in my head. I guess I’ll just eat vegetables only, forever. After my blood was drawn we went to the mall. The babies had runny noses, the mall was still closed and was deserted. The sound of the carousel echoed through the place giving it an eerie walking dead feel. I started to realize the babies’ noses were running really bad and that we had probably infected the whole place, how long does the cold virus last on public surfaces? All of the sudden I started sneezing and sneezing and sneezing. I thought it was allergies. We got home and it became clear, Jack, Fiona, and I all had a nasty cold. I needed my Blue Bear. If someone were to ask me “what’s the most challenging part of raising twins?” it would be taking care of Jack and Fiona when all three of us are sick. I laid on my bed and cried Saturday afternoon after I put the babies in their cribs, I longed for someone to swoop in and take care of all of us. To make us tea with lemon and honey and feed us chicken soup. Someone to wipe the boogers off Jack and Fiona’s faces for me, the boogers that made their way into their mouths and onto their blue bear and tiger. A disgusting sight for sure. But I knew in two hours or less I would be the one who needed to get up and take care of all three of us. Babies need their parents even more when they are sick. Jack said “mommy” a million times this weekend and held onto me tight. Fiona coughed until her eyes were watering, it was so sad. But again we made it through. My body got up and took care of the babies, took care of myself, and my Dog. I couldn’t make dinner last night for my husband though, I told him he was on his own and he made himself shrimp! I thought that was pretty cool.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 