If I had to describe myself this weekend, I'd have to say I've developed the persona of each of the Seven Dwarfs. I'm happy, sleepy, dopey, sneezy, grumpy, bashful and doc. Let me explain.
Happy: I am happy that I am still having preggo symptoms, and my sweet little belly is growing!
Sleepy: I am sleepy because I am not sleeping at night thanks to congestion, headaches, not being able to get comfy, and simply feeling like my head might explode.
Dopey: I am taking the only meds available for those in my sensitive condition since the Johnson and Johnson recall, and I feel a little doped up.
Sneezy: I blame ragweed and 7th/8th grade germs.
Grumpy: I am grumpy because I just want to feel better and can't. It's miserable.
Bashful: I'm slightly embarrassed that I'm out of season: I completely skipped the wicked witch wart and moved straight to a Rudolph-esque nose.
Doc: I feel like Doc because I am treating myself, even after speaking to a nurse hotline, an on-call doctor, and seeing a doctor after paying an insurance copay.
On Friday afternoon while leaving the post office after mailing grandparent's day cards, I sneezed. It wasn't a regular sneeze: it was one of those sneezes that can only be described as violent. My whole body lurched forward (I was surprised, as my head hit the steering wheel, that my horn didn't blow); I let out a less than feminine achoo; and my eyes watered and nose ran like I was the Fountain of Youth. I knew what was to follow wasn't going to be pretty or fun.
At 3:30 AM, I woke up unable to breathewith very little feeling in my face due to swollen sinus cavities. I felt like I had taken up knife swallowing, and I found a long, lost friend, morning sickness. I called the nurse line, who felt the doctor on call should be summoned. He wasn't happy about his 4 AM wake-up call and proved his disgust with my concern by hanging up after rudely telling me, "you have a cold. Take Tylenol, use a humidifier, and call the Clinic on Monday." Click. Luckily, the nurse made me an appointment for Saturday clinic, which proved to be as worthless.
Saturday's clinic diagnosis: "Mrs. Black, you are not going to be happy about this. It's viral, and we can't treat viral. Take medicines from your approved OB medicine list, drink lots of fluids, have some soup, and rest," said Dr. Guzman. I've never really wanted to tackle a doctor before, but I had to refrain. Honestly, I wouldn't have been able to tackle him because I was so weak and sick, but I did imagine him as a mole in the Whack-a-Mole game at the State Fair... and he was the only one that came up as I whacked away to win a giant stuffed penguin.
Let me tell you what you are not told in baby books. A cold, sneeze, cough, headache, and any other simple illness is magnified by 254 raised to the Nth degree with you are pregnant. Every time I sneeze, I wonder if my womb came with a little helmet for baby so that he/she can avoid intrauterine shaken baby syndrome. I have never had a general cold put me under the weather like I have this weekend. I am debating now if I will be able to teach tomorrow because my head spins as I write.
TB has been a gem this weekend going on Gatorade runs and helping me to narrow down what might taste good, as my taste buds are on strike. He even cleaned the kitchen the way I would clean the kitchen. I am a lucky girl. I'll keep you posted as I fight to become me again.
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