Sicky Sick Sick

Here's a synopsis of my week.

Sunday:
Wake up. Feel horrible pain in my throat every time I swallow (which seems like every 5 seconds). Send James to church to work the nursery on his own (later find out that he got stuck in the toddler room - not good). Go to Primacare. Wait. Watch that movie with Dennis Quaid where he is a baseball coach and tries out to be a pitcher for the pros. What's it called? Oh, The Rookie (James is reading over my shoulder as I type). Wait some more. Watch more of the movie, straining to make out the dialogue because they have an 80s mix blaring through the speakers as well as the TV volume turned up. Wait more. Finally my name is called! Alas, right as I walk through the door, the nurse sends me back because there's an "active bleeder" in the waiting room who takes priority over me. Stupid man. What is he thinking almost cutting his finger off. DOESN'T HE KNOW MY THROAT IS KILLING ME! Finally 2 hours later I walk out with a negative strep culture and an antibiotic. Sleep ALL day.

Monday:
It's Labor Day, but I'm scheduled to work. Wake up. Feel worse than yesterday. Page my boss. Call the nurse's stations to tell them there will be no ST today. Go to bed. Sleep all day.

Tuesday:
Wake up. Feel worse (worse!). James calls in because he needs to stay home and take care of Hunter as I am clearly not capable in this state (my husband is the bomb). Go to my doctor's office, but have to see some other doc because mine has a full schedule. Wait a significantly shorter time than at Primacare. My throat is killing me and as I'm waiting in the waiting room my stomach starts hurting. Good. Go back to the exam room and chat with the nurse. Wait and wait and wait and wait for the doctor while WRITHING IN PAIN IN THE FETAL POSITION ON THE EXAM TABLE. Feel like I'm going to puke any minute. The door opens and I jump about a mile. The doctor seems very perplexed at my behavior. I keep saying over and over that I don't understand why my stomach is hurting so bad. I tell him, "you know when you have food poisoning and you're laying on the bathroom floor wanting to throw up." He just looks at me like I'm crazy. What! Aren't you a doctor? Don't you see sick people all day? What's so strange about the way I'm acting?! He tells me that he just needs to get some info from me and then he'll examine me (in a very "you need to chill out and stop acting like a baby" tone). He pulls the trash can over and tells me I'm getting pale (duh. I've been telling you I NEED TO VOMIT). He tells me he'll give me a shot, but that someone has to pick me up because I can't drive after. I call James to come pick me up. The doctor also gives me 3 other new meds because my current ones aren't doing a darned thing. I get the shot. . . in my rear. . . and can barely walk out to the waiting room I am so drugged. James drives me home. We stop in our neighborhood for me to open the door and vomit (finally), but to my dismay, there is no relief from the stomach pain. Come home. Sleep. Vomit. Sleep. Vomit. Sleep like a drugged out fool.

Wednesday:
Wake up. Still sick, but not worse this day. Sleep all day long - very, very tired. Feel much better by the end of the day.

Thursday:
Wake up. Hooray! My throat is better. No aches! No pain! No shaking! Just weak. Go to work. Come home. Feed Hunter. Play with my baby for the first time in days. Take a 2 hour nap with my son (such an awesome baby for letting me sleep that long). Wake up. Eat dinner. Go for a walk. Bathe Hunter (another first for this week). And now I'm COMPLETELY exhausted. Falling asleep as I'm typing. Why am I doing this and not laying in bed? I'm such a blogging maniac.

The world did go on turning as I lay in bed all week. I missed Hunter's quasi-exit appointment for his DOC band. He is helmet free! At least for a couple of weeks. He looks so different to me without it.