“Sometimes I get the feeling the aspirin companies are sponsoring my headaches.”
Greetings from my bed.
I bet you weren’t awear that our relationship had progressed that far? Sorry I can’t help but be cheeky.
SO… Maybe my bed isn’t looking quite as beautiful, exotic and enticing as the picture. Littered with partially read magazines, a box of tissues, a few extra blankets that I dragged out during the shivers, the “junk mail” from a few days that had been shoved so far to the bottom of the bed that most of it is wedged between the comforter and the foot board. Clean stray socks lingered around the bed and across the entire room from the ‘match the mismatched sock project’ that I fell asleep during and then was joined by Molly, our huge black lab. Seemed she was totally game to support a family nap and took it upon herself to make a nest of the socks effectively sending most of them flying.
Nightstand usually littered with books is covered with thermometers, Mentholatum, inhalers, cough syrup that tastes awful even 10 minutes later and after mouth wash, a few stray used tissues, a hand full of socks, cough drops. The top drawer is opened so I could just dump my Sunday coupons there and deal with it later when my brain could complete a total complete thought through the awful sickly snot haze it was currently working with. My coupons gave birth to a box of Cheez-its, a roll of stamps, a random dog biscuit, my Albertsons game pieces and part of my t-shirt scarf I was making before… falling asleep again. WOW! My coupons we’re busy while I was coughing.
Did you get the memo? My brain fluid has been replaced by snot. My noggin is a helpless place of misfires, incomplete thoughts, stammering and well gooey drivel.
I had to send and email yesterday, it was long over due and was pressing my already pressure filled head.
“Honey, what’s the name for the thing we picked up in the garage.” I say to My Handsome Prince.
I could describe it down to the finest detail but God bless me I couldn’t think of the name to save my life. Yeah yeah, I’m getting old but I blame the snot at the moment from stealing my brain power.
“Uh, Sideboard you freak show.” The Prince laughs.
This was a piece that I had been SO THRILLED to acquire! I did the research on it, the sideboard and I had a whole afternoon together yet the file drawer in my messed up noodle labeled “Sideboard” was stuck. I envisioned my brain looking like the library scene in the original Ghostbusters. Where the ghost has leaked ectoplasm all over the file cabinets and they were trying to collect it in a little dish. I laugh which turns into coughing but I notice My Handsome Prince just shaking his head at me. When I stopped doing my best rib cracking dying seal lion impersonation that only a pneumonia cough can muster from me, I shoot him the questioning look. To which he responds, ” Would you like your own theme music to go with that?”
Drat, Busted for totally enjoying and getting into a daydream again.
The bathroom is just feet from our bed but it FEELS like miles.
Sort of like when you watch the news and it says what temperature it really is and then what it will “feel like”. I don’t know about you but when they say sunny and 95, I think HOT not explanation needed. 70 and overcast… yeah good there too. 40 + windy = stay your butt inside. This has been another unless opinion… I’m sorry.
Awakened by an oppressive way of sick causing chills and fever. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I laid there sweating, freezing and whimpering. Morgan Freeman was on TV. For a few moments in my frying my own brain fever stage I started the believe that I actually understood the concepts he was talking about on his show Through The Wormhole with Morgan Freeman. Then it occurred to me that maybe I needed to take something and work on bringing this fever back in check. DUH! Unfortunately, I did not retain the information I thought I understood. Frankly, I was feeling so bad that if a life sized gummy bear bounced into my room and told me to drink the Kool Aid I may have believe it a normal event and followed right along.
I felt like a big ol slug. Breathing is overrated until you can’t then it becomes a bit bothersome. :/
I surrveyed my options: A. get up and walk all the way around the bed to get to the bathroom or B. roll over a sleeping Handsome Prince much to his dismay.
Carefully peeling myself from the sheets, least we leave any appendages behind, I made the treck to the bathroom. Our bathroom is no oasis like in the picture. BUT with the lights off at 3 AM when you crank up the shower to hottest setting and aim to steam the room in an effort to find some relief, it’s my personal perfect oasis!
I’ve crawled into the shower a record number of times in the last few days to cool down, warm up, decongest and breathe. I felt useless and weak so I grabbed a sponge on one of my many trips to the haven of the shower. Sitting on the shower floor enjoying the water, I’m slowly cleaning it. I now have the cleanest half a shower there ever was! I promised the upper half we’d have a date when my legs wern’t resembling Jello.
There are times that I am so grateful to have older kids. NOW is one of them! Sure they still need us at 9,10,11 & 14 years old however they all can manage beautifully on auto pilot for a time. It also helps that I announced if their responsibilities we taken care of they could watch TV, use the computers and play video games until further notice.
Thank you Thank you I’ll accept this Rotten Parent Award!
Knowing they are safe, happy, taken care of and rotting their brains with unlimited boob tube and computer games gives a sick mama every reason to succumb to the cough medicine fog and take a few moments of rest. There are worse things than video games.
I was disturbed to see the 14 & 11 year olds sitting right next to each other on the couch and no one was screaming, slinging side comments, poking or getting on each others nerves. I was frightened temporarily. I feel asleep and aliens invaded my children! They are super close but drive each other right over the bend… girls! These two were on their phones online building glass houses and trying to catch pigs and sheep. Sounds weird yet fairly fun.
K cuts through the kitchen as I’m stirring the soup singing a ridiculous song about bath salts and eating your face as I’m stirring the soup. I scolded her for being so crass yet high five, it was kinda funny. She announces that there is a zombie in her house trying to kill her. HUH?! Min chirps from the living room that K should have closed her doors earlier. WHAT?
“So girls,” I say as they played away seated next to each other. ” Have you heard about people in glass houses?”
“They should shut their doors before dark or they get their face eaten by zombies.” Snips Min.
I..Wha… huh… but, now… oh Shitakke Mushrooms I’m WAY too sick and tired to fight this. Note to self.. check into glass houses and zombie face eaters on a healthier day. I shuffle back down the hall losing my robe sash as I went. I glanced back, the cat had attacked the evil hallway robe sash snake and claimed it as his pray, making off with it into the office.
I’ve got all the medications and help that one could need. Thanks My Craptastic Immune System for always turning a small cold into a huge lung problem!
I’m starting to feel some improvements!
With any luck it’ll be a short recovery, I’m going stir crazy when I’m down but EXHAUSTED when I’m up. My ribs feel like I’ve been boxing professionally. Lucky for me, The kids are amazing and so is my Handsome Prince. I’ve forgiven K for sharing the cold that tried to kill me.
Want to know the worst part?
The Handsome Prince woke up with K’s cold this morning. OH NO!
My ladies will understand: It’s easier to have a child sick than a husband/boyfriend/Partner Person! Men are big ol’ cranky grumpy babies when they are hurt and or sick. I love him to pieces and it was most likely sleeping next to the infectious one, ME, that got him sick in the first place. I can certainly put up with a little grumping.
So here we are battling for who gets to pick the show, sharing a box of tissues between us in bed as is a bottle of Motrin and my stack of magazines to catch up on. My stack slumps over causing a cry of cranky from the prince. I right them and remove them.
There is a sock adorning my lamp. Good Grief Molly!
For a moment I have a vision of grabbing the lamp sock and flinging it at the Grumpy Prince of Influenza.
Too much energy! I fall back into bed coughing, coughing, coughing.
YUCKY! BEING SICK STINKS!
This too shall pass,