I hate being sick

Hannah went back to school this week, after having a three week between terms break. I don’t go back to university until next week.  Needless to say, I was looking forward to using my kid and uni free time to get lots of stuff done.  Like cleaning the bomb that is Aaron’s and my room.   I clean the rest of the house every week, but the bedroom doesn’t get that luxury.  The kids are bored by the time I finish the rest of the cleaning, so I just vacuum around the mess and that’s it.  Aaron and I are not the cleanest people either.  We both have a tendency to leave clothes around, and put stuff on the dresser with intentions to put it away later, only later never comes.

I was also supposed to go to a Sustainable Agriculture and Food Security student get together on Sunday where we were all going to plant a bunch of native trees at the university’s river site.  I was really looking forward to it since I don’t really know anyone that well since I’m mostly an external student.  I haven’t even met a lot of the other people in my course.  There aren’t many of us, about 20-25 in total including first year and second year students.

But I’m sick.  I’ve been coughing for over a week now, but for the first 6 or so days, it was just that, a cough.  It sounded horrible, but I felt fine and went about my usual business, even running faster at the gym than I have in a long time.  Hannah has a cough too, and since I’m paranoid every time she has a cough, due to the time she had pneumonia, I called the home doctor service on Sunday.  My cough had turned into a deep, phlegmy type of cough that was getting harder and harder to break up, and leaving me short of breath when I did cough, so I had the doctor take a look at me too.  I love that there is a home doctor service for weekends and night time.

Turns out Hannah’s cough was just a normal she has a cold type cough, nothing to worry about unless she develops a fever, but mine is bronchitis.  By Sunday night, I had pretty much no energy, but didn’t feel too horrid.

Monday morning I took the kids to school and daycare and sat around all day trying to get better.

Tuesday morning I felt horrible.  In order to get the kids to school and daycare, I took two panadol.  Hannah said she wasn’t feeling well and stayed home too.  I’m still not too sure if she actually felt sick, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt.  I felt so bad yesterday afternoon that Aaron had to pick Daniel up when he got home from work.

And drop Hannah off this morning.  Oh, and now Aaron is sick too.  He describes the feeling very well: it’s like being blind drunk and you just have to lay down or you will fall over or pass out.  That is how we are both feeling right now.  Fevers, dizzy, aches, the whole thing.  His is a throat infection, that he finally found out about because I convinced him to go to the doctor after he dropped Hannah off this morning.  Lucky for us, no kids need to be dropped off anywhere tomorrow because I’m not sure that either one of us would be up for driving.

I hate being sick, I feel so useless.

I really feel for those who are chronically ill.  They are some tough cookies.

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The double whammy

I was washing the dishes when I started feeling cold.  Not the put-a-jacket-on type cold, but the I-think-I’m-coming-down-with-something kind.  A short time later, the aches came, along with the feeling that I needed to lay down and do nothing except be miserable.

When Daniel woke up from his nap, we went outside.  He and Hannah played in the sandpit while I laid on a picnic blanket soaking up some vitamin D to hopefully make me feel a bit better.  I did feel better while I was out there, but it was unfortunately short lived.

The next day was my fortnightly all day uni day.  I always have to go to uni once per week for 2 hours, but every other week I have a four hour workshop an hour after my usual class.  There was no way I’d last the whole day.

I dropped the kids off at preschool and daycare, came home, and laid on the couch, missing my lecture.  I popped some Panadol before heading out to my workshop so that I’d hopefully feel well enough to participate.  Workshops are compulsory after all.  Usually if someone is sick on the day, they can just go to a workshop on a different day, but mine is the very last one, so that’s not exactly possible.  I’m sure I could get a doctors certificate and then have to do some sort of other make up work, but we were making bread.  Every time I try to make bread, it turns out to be almost rock solid, caved in on the top, and not quite edible.  We were also doing sciencey things with the bread, but I was mostly interested in the bread making itself.

Lucky for me, the Panadol did it’s job and I was ok for the whole workshop.  My awesome lab partner (who funnily enough, worked for the same company in the same building at the same time as Aaron many years ago, but they didn’t know each other) and I followed the instructions to a tee, even taking the temperature of the water so it was exactly 35 degrees, in hopes that our bread would be awesome.

Only it wasn’t.  Out of the whole class, our bread was the very worst.  It wasn’t nearly as bad as all the loaves I’ve tried to make at home, but it wasn’t good either.  I guess I’m just not a bread maker.  Sigh.

That tiny loaf in the middle, that’s the one Sophie and I made. As you can kind of see, each one was slightly different. From left to right: Positive control (had flour, yeast, water, salt and all of the bread improvers), negative control (just flour, water, yeast, and salt) Vitamin C (F, W, Y, S, and vitamin C), Enzyme (F, W, Y, S and an enzyme that helps feed the yeast), and Fat (F, W, Y, S, and lard).  Even the negative control loaf was bigger than ours 😦

The Panadol started wearing off on the drive home and as soon as I walked in the door, the couch was calling me.

Yesterday I felt even worse.  I laid on the couch all morning while the kids watched Hiro of the Rails and played trains in the living room, getting increasingly bored with each passing minute.  As soon as 9 o’clock rolled around, we went outside so they could play in the sandpit, on the swings, and on their little tricycles.

“Uh-oh, you’ve got the crazy eye too.” Aaron said when he came home from work. “My  right eye is all red and gross.”

I hadn’t noticed my wonky eye.  I mean I guess I felt that it was uncomfortable, but amongst the chills, aches, fever, and gigantic swollen and sore tonsils, the eye wasn’t on my radar.

“Oh my gosh!” I said when I looked in the mirror and saw one bright red eye with pus coming out of the corner and bottom.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and had a look at my tonsils.  The right one was still gigantic, and the left almost normal.  Both had pus all over them.

“I think I’d better go to the doctor.” I said to Aaron.

45 minutes later, I was back home with eye drops for the conjunctivitis (pink eye), and a 50 tablet pack of antibiotics for my very bad case of tonsilitis.

At least I’m on the mend now.  My fever is gone, and I think I’m feeling a lot better.  It’s hard to tell since I’m currently laying in my bed, and laying down always made it a bit better, but I’m not freezing or achey.  Just tired, which is understandable since I tossed and turned all last night and the night before.

Ugh, I hate being sick.  How Aaron and I got pink eye and the kids didn’t, I have no idea.

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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson

The last few days

Sunday we had our annual bubba’s Christmas party. Not that Hannah and her friends are bubbas anymore, but that’s still what I call it. You know how it is, she’ll always be my baby. We’ve been getting together for Christmas with all the other parents and kids from antenatal class since Hannah’s very first Christmas. Every year, we also line the kids up in order of birth (first born on the left. Hannah is second left) and take a photo.

This is the result we got when we asked the question “who wants cupcakes?!” Looks like Hannah is not the only lefty in the group.

The party was supposed to be at the beach but got changed at the last minute due to poor weather. Fine by me, there was a jumping castle and plenty of toys for all of the kids to play with at one of the other mum’s house.

Seems the fake smiles for the camera are pretty universal

The next morning, Hannah woke up and started vomiting. Ick. At least by that time, she had already digested everything in her stomach from the day before (and she ate a LOT the day before!) and all that came up was water. Because we all know how I feel about vomit.  Lucky for me, Hannah is now at an age where she can let me know she needs to vomit and actually get the vomit in a bowl, rather then just suddenly retching all over herself, the floor, and the couch. Sure, I had to hold the bowl for her to make sure every last drop was collected in there, but as I said, it was only liquid, so holding the bowl whilst rubbing her back was actually do able. Had there been chunks? Oh. My. Gosh. I’m not quite sure what I would have done. Probably still held the bowl and looked the other way. I don’t know.

I gave her Powerade to drink (for all the electrolytes), but poor girl, she couldn’t keep it down. She tried drinking water, but couldn’t keep that down either. For the whole morning, she laid on the couch, cuddling me and watching Peppa Pig in between bouts of vomiting. Poor Danny boy had to play by himself all morning. Not that he minded, since Peppa Pig was on. He does love Peppa Pig.

Suddenly, at 3pm, Hannah jumped off the couch and started dancing around the living room. She bounced and laughed and didn’t look at all like the sorry sick little girl of the morning. And that was it. She was better.

“I have to concentrate on not throwing up.” The text message from Aaron said. And not long after that, I got another one. “I’m on the train now. The motion making it even worse.” He was sick too. So sick he had to come home from work. It must have been really bad. Aaron never goes home from work sick. He will stay there and finish the day even if he has to go to the toilet every 5 minutes.

He slept for a few hours in the afternoon, and then felt much better.  We all had a good sleep that night.

Which brings us to yesterday. My boob appointment. No cancer, I found out, whilst awkwardly sitting there, talking to a man about my boobs as a first year medical student looked on, taking notes and learning. There are some lumps in the ducts. I’ll have to get another ultrasound in March, and then schedule surgery to have all the lumps and maybe the ducts removed. We can’t do it before then because I only stopped breastfeeding 4 months ago. You don’t dry up until after 6 months. If a duct was open during surgery and milk started coming out, and then seeped into the open wound made from surgery, it wouldn’t heal properly and could lead to all sorts of complications. So, later it is. At least I don’t have cancer. Phew.

I looked at the clock. 11:11pm. Last night. There was a rumbling in my belly. Oh crap. I went to the bathroom and then laid back down in bed. The rumbling started again. I went back to the bathroom. As soon as I was done I the toilet, before I could even pull my pants up, I nearly vomited. The noises and stomach heaves were there, but nothing came out. Luckily. I couldn’t lay down so flat, so I went to the couch instead, sitting half up with my back against the side of the couch to prevent the bile taste from going up my oesophagus.

The whole night was spent with my stomach in horrible pain, attempting in vain to get some sleep, and going to the bathroom at way too regular intervals. Needless to say, Aaron had to stay home from work today. I don’t know what sort of virus this is, but it’s pretty horrible. It’s short in duration, but goodness it comes on strong. I’m feeling much better now, as long as I’m resting. I think I’ll be better by tomorrow. I hope. I’m just praying that Daniel doesn’t get it too. He’s the only one left now who hasn’t gotten it, and I think it’d be the hardest for him. He hasn’t really been sick before. He’s had colds, but nothing too terrible. He did throw up once. Well, twice, in the same night, but then he was better by morning. It was pretty mild. And that’s it. Please don’t get this Daniel, it’s horrible! And he’s growing 2 more teeth right now too, so he’s already a cranky pants. Plus tomorrow is a daycare day and I have so much stuff to get done, none of which will be easy if I have a sick me or Daniel to take care of.

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I’ll look after you

Last weekend I was feeling quite sick. I had a nasty cough that stole most of my voice and left me sounding much like a chain smoking transvestite. Not that I’ve ever met a chain smoking transvestite. But you get my drift. I laid on the couch, coughing my guts up and curling into a ball to stay warm despite my fever of 39.5c (103.1F). I just wanted to lay there. Needed to.

Hannah came bounding in from her room, the quilt that Grandma Linda (my host mum. Exchange student mother if you don’t know what a host mum is) made for her, and her Dora blanket hanging from her arms, almost tripping her as she walked.

She came over to me and laid them out on top of me.

Her little face changed to an expression of concern. “I’ll look after you mommy,” she told me firmly as she smoothed the blankets out and patted my side.

“Here Mommy.” She gave me some stuffed animal toys to cuddle.

“You need some books to read.”  She went off and brought me some of her books, getting quite upset when Daniel came over to look at them instead of me.

“NO DANIEL, THOSE ARE FOR MOMMY!!!!!”

“Do you need anything else, Mommy?”

“No sweetie, I think I’ve got everything I need. Thanks baby, you’re very sweet.”

“I think you need some food. I’ll get you an apple and a passionfruit.” She climbed up on her desk to reach the fruitbowl on the kitchen counter, and then put her chosen fruit in 2 of her little plastic tea set bowls before bringing them to me.

“Here Mommy. In case you get hungry.”

She ran off to her room again.

When she came back, she was carrying her pink Dora the Explorer garbage bin. I must say, I was a little baffled.

“You need this too Mommy…for your tissues.” She is clearly smarter than me.

The next day she laid on the couch, scrunched her face up, forced out a pretend cough and said in her sooky voice “Mommy, I feel a little bit sick, you can look after me.” FYI, she was not actually sick.

“I need my blankets, some books, an apple and passionfruit, my bin, and my Mickey.”

Cheeky monkey.

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What is bomit for?

“Mom, what’s this?” Hannah asked me as she held up a small yellow plastic mixing bowl.

“That is in case you vomit.” I told her. She was sick for a couple days, and I hate vomit. I had delusions of her actually getting the vomit in the bowl if she needed to chuck. But you know, they were just that. Delusions.

“Can we eat bomit?” She asked. I nearly died choking on my laughter, but I couldn’t let it out and make her feel stupid. That is a legitimate question when you’re 2.

“No sweetie, vomit is icky.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s full of half digested food.”

“What is bomit for?” She wondered.

“It’s for making your tummy feel better when you’re sick.”

“Why?”

“Because when you’re sick, your stomach doesn’t like having food in it.”

“Why?”

Sigh.

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Gold Coast – Part 4: Use the lounge

I’m so glad I noticed the little ad for the Jetstar lounge on my e-ticket.  We were so tired from the events of the previous evening.  Not to mention Hannah woke up at 2am screaming for water.  I gave her a cup full of water which she ravenously gulped down in less than a minute (complete with slurping sounds).  We were not in the mood, nor did we have the energy to be chasing Hannah all around a crowded airport.   Plus, I didn’t want to have to carry her around everywhere as I had already carried her 1.2 kms (with one arm, while pushing the pram with the other) from McDonald’s to our accommodation because she was crying in the pram and I felt bad because she was sick.

Hannah in the kids area of the Jetstar lounge

Honestly, I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to go to the Jetstar lounge at the Coolangatta (Gold Coast) airport.  It’s not one that you need to be a member of, you don’t have to fly in business class to get in, they have a kids area, food is included in the price, there is wi-fi, showers if you want one, tv, etc.  And, it’s only $15 each (kids under 12 free).  When you compare that to buying a meal each from one of the airport fast food places, it doesn’t seem too bad.  You’d pay at least $10 for some crappy fast food meal, and you don’t get the nice lounges to sit on, nor can you go back for seconds, thirds, or even, if you’re particularly hungry, fourths.  There was sushi, pasta, wraps, bread rolls with fillings to put on if you want, desert, pancakes (made by a really cool machine at the touch of a button), coffee, tea, hot chocolate, beer and/or wine, crackers, and fruit.  What’s not to like??

Hannah asleep on the plane

Another angle of the uncomfortable airplane sleep

Asleep on the train

Poor Hannah was not herself that day.  She fell asleep on the plane with her bum on me, and her head held up by Aaron’s hand, body over the arm rest.  It looked so incredibly uncomfortable!!!

She fell asleep on me on the train, and then nearly fell asleep on the bus too.

That night, Hannah got a fever of 39.3 celsius. I freaked out a little and called the after hours doctor (the hospital said to come back if she started vomiting again, or if she got a fever), who came remarkably fast.  He checked her chest and ears and all of that, said she’d be fine, she had a virus, and told me to give her electrolyte pops the next day.

She was super clingy and lacked energy for a few days, but then she bounced back to her old happy, cheeky, rambunctious self.