Two months ago, we planned a surprise baby shower for my sister. Unfortunately, I got sick during that time and, even though we’d made all the arrangements, campground reservations and more, and even purchased plane tickets for two of the older kids, we had to cancel our plans when I got really sick a few weeks ago. The shower was planned for Thursday night last week.
However, last Wednesday, after the new GI said he thought I had antibiotic induced diarrhea and gave me new meds (not antibiotics!), we decided to jump in the truck and race to Virginia, praying we’d get there in time for the big surprise. Richard quickly made hotel reservations while Alyssa helped me pack and away we went, with Max, Mason and Ali with us in the truck (the other kids decided to stay in Maine).
We made it in time and the shower was beautiful. My mom flew up from Texas and my sister was shocked. We really pulled it off!! She cried. It was so beautiful. I was feeling pretty good because the red stuff they’d made me drink for my CT Scan had stopped me up, providing me with relief from my frequent bathroom trips over the prevous two weeks.
That night, the gut troubles returned with a vengeance. By Friday morning, I was also running a fever. It reached 103 on Friday night. I was very frightened that I was going to end up in the hospital again…but I was even more frightened that they’d give me some other drug that would make me even more sick than the previous drugs made me. So, I vowed to try to let my body fight this on its own. Maybe the good bacteria was waging a battle against the bad because I was finally getting the antibiotics out of my system? Everybody was really worried and I felt like I was at death’s door for a few hours there. I took the prescription anti-diarrhea medicine and also full doses of Immodium. And, I was taking Motrin for the fever. On Saturday morning, the fever got down below 101 and things appeared to be turning in my favor. On Sunday, the fever got down to 99 and the gut meds seemed to finally be working. I even thought I might be able to eat something (I haven’t had a real appetite since getting ill about 2 months ago). I stayed in bed for two days and, on Monday, I actually got into the truck and let Richard take me to my sister’s house. I spent the day in her bed, letting everybody try to force food into me. On Monday night, I started believing that maybe I was going to pull through and finally beat this thing!
I’m writing this on Tuesday and, aside from the fact that the anti-diarrhea medicine seems to have worked a bit too well (ahem…), the fever is gone and I’m eating plenty of food. In fact, Ali is making our favorite salmon dish, Alaska Baked Salmon tonight.
I’m never taking antibiotics again…unless I’m truly at death’s door. We’re also shopping for a new doctor.
This Week’s Maxism:
“If you had four babies in your tummy, you’d be super fat.”
Hugs to all!
Angela
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