I have no idea when Mercutio spoke that line, or if he even did. And I would definitely fact check it, but I am actually physically so worn out that I don’t even care. We have a plague upon our house. It started a couple of weeks ago when things were going really, really well. Like suspiciously well. I was getting coffee every morning, the days were the perfect weather/daylight balance for running, and I had just discovered this new workout called barre3 (more on that in a later blog). Meals were being eaten at a reasonable time by adults and SL was finally saying “Mama”. Did I mention laundry was also folded and in drawers? Because this seems to be an important detail.
Next thing I know I am getting one of those urgent calls from our sweet babysitter that SL has a fever and isn’t feeling well. There are very few things that are sadder than a sick toddler, and our sweet baby proved it. She was miserable and her nose was an unstoppable faucet. She also still had this awful cough that she had gotten way back at the beginning of September but that I had finally imagined was going away. Anyway, she was sick. So I called in reinforcements (I.E., my Mama) and carried on with work/life balance. Generally my immune system is pretty rock solid after working around veritable petri dishes every day. Matt’s goes back and forth but we also believed that he would not succumb to whatever it was. Two days later, she was back in daycare and fine. Or so I thought. Until….last Friday, when I got the call again. Fever, not feeling well. We decided that she should go ahead and nap in her pack-n-play at daycare, and I would pick her up when she work up so she would not have to be quarantined in there. And I placed what I thought would be a simple call to the pediatrician’s office…but it wasn’t. There was a busy signal. I had never gotten a busy signal there before. So I tried again. Busy. Checked lunch hours, but confirmed there was a 24 hour answering service, called again. Busy. Four tries later, still busy. Call Matt, have him start calling. Busy. My lunch is over and I’m back with classes. Getting nervous because I am about to go pick up a sick baby on a Friday afternoon with NO MEDICAL ADVICE. Matt texts me. “Phone must be broken”. Are you kidding?
I finish up work, rush over to pick up SL and make the executive decision to just take her in, even though she has just been to the doctor earlier in the week to confirm a sinus infection and get started on an antibiotic. Now she is 3 days into the antibiotic and somehow getting worse? Long story short, we go to the doctors office where they confirm that their phones, are, in fact broken, but they have made it up to the general public by decreeing that anyone who thinks their kid is sick enough to come in, is going to be seen- they had actually pretty much cleared their afternoon for those visits. Bonus points to having a great pediatrician! Downside? I learned something that I only had passing thoughts of. While ill with something that involves mucous, your child can actually pick up A SECOND MUCOUS-Y virus of some sort. And, (careful of TMI in here), you have a certain number of mucous plugs that develop with a cold or sinus infection. If you are fortunate enough to get something on top of that, it will almost double. It’s not like it all gets pooled into the same nose blowing count. Which does clear up the question of why kids are so snotty-nosed all the time. But just seems absurd, right?
But back to our story, which should have ended with lots of fluids and rest. Weekend was pretty normal, I went back to school on Monday, then on Tuesday, started feeling…. not 100%. Wednesday my throat started hurting, and by the afternoon I was flushed and feverish. This is how the Wednesday night conversation went down:
M: I think you’re sick.
Me: I think it’s probably just allergies, you know? Sick is a wide range of possibilities.
M: I can barely understand what you’re saying.
Me: I must not be drinking enough water.
M: I think you’re lying. I think you’re really sick.
Me: I would say I am not 100%, yes, but sick is a bit dramatic.
M: What percent are you?
Me: 90? (croaking at this point)
M: Sighs, shakes head.
Me: But I already had my flu shot! (Little did I know it takes 2 weeks for that bad boy to set in)
Thursday, unfortunately, I could not pull myself from bed. So in an undeniably rookie move, I sent a text to my colleagues letting them know I was coming in but would probably be late. At 11, I called Matt, who could not understand me, to croak out that I wasn’t sure I should go in with a fever. I had to admit that I would not be there at all. That afternoon I googled how long it takes a flu shot to work (2 weeks), and early symptoms of Ebola (I don’t have Ebola). Suffice it to say I am not the world’s greatest patient, which may be why God blessed me with the ability to deny and fend off most things that come my way.
Now we get to the reality check part. So three years ago, had I had the flu, I would have curled up on the couch, in easy distance of the refrigerator, and the TV remote, and stayed there until I found the energy to move again. Try explaining it to a 16 month old. The kind who is running, walking and moving constantly. Friday night was Halloween, and she had a ridiculously adorable monkey costume. My plan was to be the Zookeeper. Of course, this wasn’t optional since I was practically hallucinating, so Matt had to be in charge of taking her trick-or-treating for the first time. And he wouldn’t be a zookeeper. Sigh. When it occurred to her that I was in the house this weekend, but upstairs, she stood in the living room shouting “Mama!” It brought tears to my eyes, and brought me to the top of the stairs where I oohed and aahed over how much fun she was having with Daddy, and how great she had gotten at handing candy to him, then taking it back and dropping it into her Trick-or-Treating pail. In the hours I had been unavailable to her, she had learned something new. Which is why I don’t get sick. Because when you are sick, you will miss something.
Today’s conversation:
Me: Ugh, I feel better but can’t get my temp back to normal.
Matt: I don’t really feel well…