It's just another freaky bout of viral meningitis...the cause of which is still a mystery (and I'm beginning to think a bit of a novelty) to my neurologist/infectious disease specialist/various doctors and nurses in the ER.
I kinda saw it coming...
Subtle signs last week that I blew off or attributed to other stuff.
I felt particularly crappy after running a 5k in West Chester Friday night (9/11). Considering the miles I've been putting in, a 5k shouldn't have left me feeling so destroyed.
If Lindsay (running buddy/one of the bestest of my besties) & I hadn't stuck together for the entire race, I would have really struggled. I owe my respectable finish (albeit blotchy & absolutely drenched in sweat) to her.
And Reilly, but that's another story for another day (let it be known she's like the little sister I never had).
Saturday I worked all day & felt crappier as the hours wore on.
By Sunday, I felt positively hit by a truck and realized at that point hmmmm I know this feeling and I know where this is headed.
I spent allllllll of Sunday in bed, mostly sleeping, not eating, not drinking, not anything-ing.
Sunday night I was in and out of sleep with that familiar headache building.
Monday was the inevitable trip to the ER (because my family doc won't even consider weighing in or trying to treat this little conundrum).
Faced with the choice of being admitted or treating the symptoms at home, I opted for home.
Ever since I watched my mom die in one of the best hospitals anywhere, I am terrified of staying in a hospital.
Needles never bothered me before.
Now I nearly pass out when my blood is drawn.
The thought of a lumbar puncture makes me sweat and twist up inside. And cry.
Here I am, in the comfort (and chaos) of my home with a crapload of meds, orders to stay put, but...no IVs or blips or beeps or hospital smell or nurses taking vitals around the clock or any of that stuff that now scares the shit out of me.
The pain meds have eased my headache a bit (enough to read/write in bed), but they also make me restless and itchy.
Mostly, though, I just want my mom.
I mean, I'm sick...I want my mom.
My husband is an amazing caretaker...his patience is admirable, his demeanor is so calm and easy (as if none of this is a big deal, as if dropping everything and handling ALL of everything is no biggie)...
I just wish he didn't have to shoulder it on his own.
I wish my mom could come over and share her People magazine with me & play with Maeve while I sleep.
I wish she'd make tea for me (always in a smaller cup than I prefer, but always perfect) and wash the little pile of dishes by the sink (because I miss the sound of my mom trying to be quiet & considerate while bustling around my kitchen)...
I wish she'd just hang out here with me.
I wish Maeve would climb all over her and take her by the hand to play and read and be silly.
School is in full swing.
My son is off to a great start for fifth grade. He's growing up quickly.
He's all about trimming his nails and smelling clean and trying so damn hard to not crumple papers in his backpack.
New year, new leaf.
He's one of the three "big kids" at the bus stop.
Truly seems like yesterday when he was dwarfed by his backpack, wearing shorts a size too big, clambering nervously/excitedly onto the bus for the very first time as a brave little kindergartener.
Sounds soooooo cliche, but it's all true.
They really do grow up so fast.
I can't believe summer is over.
This must have been one of our best, most fun, most memorable summers ever (yep...another post for another day) & I hope hope hope my kids feel the same way.
I need some sleep. Freaking headache is coming back.
Somebody out there has it way worse than me...
This is nothing.
A nuisance, a teeny tiny setback.