Gurgle, Gurgle… Ug…

Richard’s two childhood friends, Chris and Scott, flew in from Wisconsin last Thursday. We did the standard Bar Harbor trip, drove up Cadillac Mountain, and got in some good leaf watching. It was definitely the peak weekend for leaf watchers and it was absolutely breathtaking. The night they arrived, we had lobster, which was precooked at a local seafood wholesaler. It was really good but mine might have been a bit undercooked. On Friday morning, I had pains in my stomach. They weren’t too bad so I did have fun that day. I went to bed early that night, which was unusual for me. I just don’t do that. I usually stay up past midnight. But, that night I just didn’t feel like myself.

The next day, my stomach hurt even more and I had a really bad headache. They all drove to the land and I stayed home with Mason and worked all day. My headache got worse and wouldn’t go away, even after taking Ibuprofen. They came home and I tried to be social, I really did, but it just wasn’t in me and I had to admit that I couldn’t go out and do anything. So, they went without me. I felt terribly rude and apologized profusely, but I just couldn’t ignore the stomach pain and the headache any longer. I took Mason upstairs and tried to get him to sleep so I could go to bed early again. And, it suddenly dawned on me. The headache! Could it mean I have a fever?

I took my temperature and it was 101. Pretty high for an adult, which explains why I felt like death thrice warmed over. Richard got back from dinner around this time and asked if I wanted something to eat. The thought of food turned me green so he got me a Sprite and a big barf bowl instead. The Ibuprofen still wasn’t working so he found some Tylenol. I took one extra strength tablet and tried to sleep. But, my stomach kept telling me sleep wasn’t going to be coming anytime soon. I hadn’t eaten much at all that day so my stomach really didn’t have anything to throw back in my face (forgive me if you’re eating while reading this). Mason and Max were finally asleep and Richard came to bed. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind sleeping in the Max’s room. I said, “I’m going to throw up and I do not want to do that in front of you.” He retreated and said to let him know if I needed anything.

I was awake for a couple of hours, wondering if I was going to survive the night, wondering how Mason would fair with no more num nums (I still nurse him), how Max would grow up after losing his mommy at such a tender age, and how the big kids would be able to raise their kids without being able to call me with questions about things like… stomach viruses. My stomach lurched again and I had chills from the fever. So, I was shaking under the quilt, trying to focus on the TV instead of my gut, and feeling about as miserable as I’ve felt in a very long time.

Sometime around 2:00, I must have finally dozed off. I woke up at 3:00 and, while my stomach still hurt, the nausea was gone and my headache was gone, too. I checked and my temp had dipped back down below 101 and I thought maybe I might survive after all. The Tylenol was working. I was even hungry. Famished, in fact! I tip-toed downstairs and got four crackers and a piece of square cheese (that’s what we call it). I ate while channel surfing and then tried to get some more sleep. Mason woke up and I fed him. He went back to sleep. I stared at the ceiling. I heard a car stop in front of our house. I got up to investigate. It was the paper girl. I laid back down. I dozed off and on, waking up several times. I left the TV on all night to keep me company. The next morning, I was still running a low-grade fever, but I was alive and thankful that my immune system seemed to be working. I stood up and it hit me. I RAN to the bathroom. And, that’s where I spent most of the day. No, I wasn’t vomiting…

From the cold confines of the bathroom, I could hear everyone else enjoying their Sunday. Richard was cooking a big breakfast. It smelled horrible. My appetite was gone again. I could hear Ali talking on her cell phone and I could hear Max running up and down the stairs, and his constant happy chatter. I listened with longing to Mason’s little baby bare feet pounding on the hardwood floors, wishing I could play with him. Frank was yelling at his video game. Zach was in the office talking to Matt. I strained (to hear, not the other straining) but it was too difficult to eavesdrop with the door closed. And, I sat upstairs, running back and forth to/from the bathroom/bedroom. The fever finally broke and didn’t come back, but my digestive system continued to revolt.

Today is Tuesday and my stomach is still not quite right. It still hurts, but not as much. Everything I eat goes through me, but not quite as fast as it did yesterday. The fever has not come back at all. I have to watch what I eat because I get nauseated after I eat anything. I’ve lost a bit of weight but I’m actually feeling quite good – excellent compared to Saturday night.

I honestly think it was the lobster. So, I’m glad I’m pulling through and that it wasn’t more serious. My lobster must have been the last one in the pot and the first one out.

Unfortunately, Richard isn’t feeling very well right now but it’s not due to any illness. He came upstairs a few minutes ago and said, “The plumber just charged us $95 to pull an army man out of the garbage disposal…”

This week’s Maxism:

Matt called Zach an not-so-nice word the other day. Max heard him and instantly repeated the word, loud and clear.

I told Max it was a bad word and then told him to tell Matt he had a potty mouth.

Max went downstairs, found Matt, and said in a sing-song voice, “You have potty in your mouth!”

Richard didn’t know what was going on and Max got into trouble for saying that.

Before I could intervene, Max ran upstairs, put his hands on his hips and said, “Mom, you made a fool out of me.”

Hugs to all!


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