The Virus That Is Going To End Me

The Virus That Is Going To End Me

I’m not a pansy. Let me lay out the foundation here first and say that I’ve had RA for 15 years.  I know pain and discomfort and I’ve become really good at ignoring or just living with it.  When my epidural malfunctioned with my daughter’s birth, I actually remember thinking, “This isn’t as bad as RA was in my feet.”  So I think we’ve established I can deal.  That said, I have no idea what the heck kind of twisted cooties are going around, but I would swear that it’s either some kind of resurrected middle-ages plague, or chemical warfare, because this just will not die – it just keeps evolving. Even worse, it’s turned me into a sniveling drama queen. Hyperbole, yes, it’s a great source of fun. But drama? No thank you.

 

My mom was a nurse forever.  There were no theatrics about the flu or colds. Unless something was violently erupting from one end or another, we were going to school or work, period. Because of that upbringing (which I appreciate) my typical MO usually sounds a lot like, “Take 10 cc of Suck It Up and get in the car so you can go to school and learn about the love of Jesus.” But these cooties……they’ve broken something in me and I canNOT stop complaining about them. I sound like a man with a cold. I’m even annoying myself.

Woman blowing nose
No, that’s not me but I feel for her

Allow me to illustrate my demise into this epic pity party:

 

Week 1

Two weeks ago I came home from a field trip Sacramento to find my oldest daughter sick. Sore throat, a headache and the beginnings of a cough had begun the day before. She was clearly quite miserable, so she stayed home from school the next day. That was Wednesday.

 

Thursday…

I received a call from a family friend who happens to be a fabulous chef trained at Le Cordon Bleu. Because of my experience baking gluten free desserts (which I SWEAR I will start adding to this page if I can ever catch a break), he asked me to test a new product which reportedly improves the texture of gluten free breads and pastries. He wanted feedback.  After looking up the product in question I was really excited to get my hands on it, and People!, I cannot wait for you to try this adjunct, because not only is it legit, it is a nutritionist’s dream – but that’s for another day. Let’s get back to my pity party…

 

Friday…

Both children are now sick and my oldest was coughing through the night. My empathy was total, she was in abject misery. In the meantime I’m diffusing everything but bleach, giving them natural antibiotics and antivirals, elderberry syrup,  bromelain for the cough, boosting C, D with K2, zinc…you name it, I administered it like a drug dealer in a D.C. back alley. Everything that has time and again either prevented a flu from progressing, or has shortened or mitigated its duration, they had it, and so did I because I just could not afford to get this bug.

 

Saturday…

I had a lovely conversation with a representative from this awesome company which ended in an invitation to a meeting with them the following week to present my findings.  I was thoroughly looking forward to getting my hot little hands on this Miracle Product, and excited to meet the men behind it.

 

Sunday…

D+6, I could feel it in my sinuses. Really bad timing but I had things to do. ‘Move along and ignore it’ is the name of that game.

 

Week 2

Monday…

Both kids home from school.  My empathy runneth over.

Full blown sinus infection for both myself and my daughter.

Still handing out the medicinals like a crack dealer.  

I have serious reservations about being able to even taste what I’m testing, much less bake them. That’s no bueno. I receive the product and make a cake.  

 

Tuesday…

I can’t smell or taste a damn thing.  Both children are home again and my empathy is now questionable. I begin saying things like “I have it too and I’m still baking, doing laundry, dishes and taking care of you guys so I’m sure you’ll survive.”

I went to the grocery store and fantasized about leaving the country.

I canceled a first date for Thursday.  That was a bummer, but…cooties, and I knew I wasn’t going to feel better after burning this candle from both ends and melting the middle.

 

Wednesday…

I shuffle kids off to school with fake encouragement like, “If you really, really, really don’t feel well, have the nurse call me and come get you,” all the while knowing this is a highly dubious promise.  I needed them in school and they needed to be out of the house and distracted with friends, playing in fresh air and sunshine.  I’d feel bad about this but I’m pretty sure this all came from said petri dish anyway. That and the zero to little empathy thing.

In the meantime, I am fully in love with this product and baking a bunch of things which I can *kind of* taste and it’s awesome.  My eye is on the meeting the next day and this bug can take a hike.

Messenger Mucous
So my nutrition friends can hear allllllll about my mucous

Thursday…

Short of tuberculosis or their eyes literally bleeding, my children were going to school.

The meeting went really well and I hardly coughed, so that was something.  I truly hope I get to work with this company because this stuff is a gluten free baker’s dream.

I start succumbing to this virus. I’d broken out the squeeze bottle version of the neti pot days before so it was seeing a lot of action.

I’m now highly interested in the color of my snot.  It’s pretty green and for What. Ever. Reason, I feel the need to announce it to those around me.  This is the real beginning of my demise.

 

Friday…

I have very little recall except I think one of the girls stayed home from school and I effectively named this The Virus That Would Not Die.  Empathy is now dead.

 

Saturday and Sunday…

Looked a lot like Friday.  I don’t think we left the house.  I’ve been shelling out the medicinals for over a week and my oldest was finally improving.  We’re now on the 6th giant box of Costco tissues.  

I start murmuring and complaining ad nauseam.

Me: *mumbles after blowing nose* Oooooofff.  That is really green.

Child: That’s gross, Mom.

Me: What do you think? Is it the color of a kiwi?

Children: *permanently traumatized, run from room*

I now vacillate between underwhelming sympathy and snapping at my children because I’m in a rotten mood and I’m most certainly not momming like a boss.

Pink eye text
And then I got pink eye because of course I did

Week 3…yes, THREE….

Monday…

Youngest stays home from school.  

I find a tick in the house and eye the dog with disdain because I needed one more freaking thing.

Me: *blows nose and mumbles* Great. I’ve never seen it look like Dijon Mustard.  That can’t be good.

Children: *gagging noises*

I find goop in my eye and realize I now have pink eye because offffff course I do. I briefly consider if it would just be easier to burn the house down.

I change the label of this bug from The Virus That Would Not Die to The Effing Virus That Is Going To End Me. Because I’ve turned into a man with a cold or something, and drama is now in full effect.

 

Tuesday…

Determined both children will go to school, I wake them up….annnnnnnd my youngest promptly barfs in the sink. *inner-self weeps and tells outer-self to suck it up – I mentally beat that inner-self without remorse*

Me: *blows nose, mumbles* Hey!  It’s looking better! *blows nose again* “Ope, no…that’s blood.  Super.  Now my brain is bleeding.  

*More gagging noises from the children*

I am now coughing so hard I pee my pants regularly because…2 babies.  My children think it’s hilarious.  Although that hasn’t happened in years, I’m still not thrilled with this new development. *mentally adds kegels to to-do list*

I buy new antiviral herbs because nothing is working and breathing is a thing of the past.

 

Wednesday…

….and that brings us to today.

What-the-eff-ever.  As I sit here typing and doing kegels so I don’t have to start stealth-ordering Depends from Amazon, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to cancel my already rescheduled date.  Although if he reads this he might be so grossed out over my eye-goop, tick, and occasional incontinence that he’ll just go away quietly.

 

RIP
There’s GOT to be an end to this virus but hopefully it’s not death

My oldest is clearly on the mend and my youngest made it to school this morning, although she eyed me with derision as I dropped her at the curb so the jury’s still out on that one.  I am still sending hyperbolic messages to friends about my imminent death and I’ll probably start planning my funeral soon (just cremate me and scatter me wherever….I guarantee you I won’t give a rip) because this virus is just stupid. I lament the fact that I’ve turned into a man over this bug, whining about everything.  I’m unimpressed with my ability to endure this with any grace whatsoever, but I’m also pretty sure I just now burst a blood vessel in my ear after blowing my nose and crap it hurts.  And now I’m going to figure out how to apologize to my children for setting such a low standard, and for being a nagging harpy for the last few days.

 

I’ll be sure to let you know how things are going.  Unless I die of this medieval bug. *rolls eyes at self so far back I see said burst blood vessel* Y’all have a nice day now.