Germ Warfare

I'm starting this at 8:45 AM on a Tuesday; very different than my usual 10-PM-on-a-Sunday-night routine. Why, you ask? Well, mostly because I don't have the energy to stand (it's been one of those weeks) so I figured I'd do something productive while I sit.

One of those weeks, you say? Why, yes. It all started last week on Monday morning. Around 2 AM on Monday morning, when Anna woke up crying and coughing and running a fever. I spent the better parts of Monday through Wednesday snuggling a feverish toddler, wielding the bulb syringe, and keeping the humidifier filled. (On the plus side, she spent a good 2-3 hours every day napping. So did I.) By Thursday, she was feeling better. . .thank goodness, because we had Elizabeth's parent/teacher conference. (All is going well; Mrs. H. says Elizabeth has adjusted beautifully to kindergarten, is a good listener, doesn't run with scissors or eat glue, etc.)

Since Anna was feeling better and Jared was home for the day, after our parent conference I figured I'd take a trip to the mall to shop for some much-needed maternity clothes. When it comes to shopping, Elizabeth could take it or leave, but Anna is always, always up for a trip to the store. Any store. The kid loves to shop. (She's so stereotypically female that it's not even funny; her favorite activities around the house are cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry, and she literally BEGS me to take her to the store. Hoo, boy.) So, I left Elizabeth at home with Jared, and Anna and I headed to the mall. As I walked across the parking lot, I slipped and fell flat on my tush, managing to scrape about an inch of skin off the top of my foot in the process. Not to be deterred (hey, I had a hot coupon!), I dusted myself off and marched into Old Navy, washed off my foot in the bathroom and begged a Band-Aid off of one of the employees, and did my shopping.

Friday and Saturday I limped along (literally) as I took care of Elizabeth and myself. . .we were now both sick with Anna's cold. By Sunday, we were in pretty bad shape; my foot was getting worse and Elizabeth was complaining of an earache. I decided I'd spare Elizabeth from having to wait a miserable hour at the urgent care clinic and would take her to her doctor the next morning instead, and I hobbled alone to the InstaCare to see if maybe I'd fractured something. The X-ray came back clear, but the doctor was sufficiently impressed by my "flesh wound" to send me home with a surgical scrub brush and some Hibiclens to help stave off gangrene.

Monday morning I took Elizabeth to her doctor, where my suspicions of an ear infection were confirmed. . .along with a bonus: strep throat! Sigh. This isn't the first time that she's suffered with strep throat for 3-4 days before I get around to taking her to the doc, because I don't realize what it is, and of course I feel just terrible when we find out. (And, ironically, the one time I took her in because I thought she had strep throat, it was mono.) It might make my job easier if she got the "classic" strep throat symptoms like, say, a SORE THROAT. But I'm learning. The most reliable indicator of her having strep is that she cries. A lot. Poor girl. I completely understand; I remember the last time I had strep throat, and I just felt like crying all the time too!

And that brings us to today. Elizabeth is still home from school, but she's off the couch and looks tremendously better. Anna is more or less back to her usual self and I'm keeping my fingers crossed she doesn't come down with strep, too. Jared, of course, is feeling fine; a measly cold virus does nothing to him. (Don't tell him, but I totally let Elizabeth nap on his side of the bed yesterday, half-hoping that he'd catch strep throat from the germs she drooled all over his pillow. . .the man could use a little empathy, is all I'm sayin'.) I'm walking just about normally again, and my cold is mostly gone. After 9 straight nights of getting up every few hours to answer cries, suction noses, fetch drinks of water, administer medicine, and refill humidifiers, I'm looking forward to some decent sleep tonight with only my pregnancy-induced heartburn and twice-nightly potty trips to disturb me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my wound debridement.