Life around the Chronicle house has not been fun for the last couple of weeks. A knock-down, drag out with Husband that is still bothering me, a uber crappy Mother's Day (like that was going to be a big shock), and the kicker; being out of work sick for the past three days. A cold, combined and complicated by allergies, that the ER doc said last night appeared to be turning into bronchitis. Now working on my third box of Kleenex in 36 hours. Coughing so hard that my bladder, which had previously assured me that it was empty was empty, decides to change it's mind while I'm standing in front of a room full of interns giving a new hire orientation presentation (thank God for dark blue pants). I've now almost surpassed Husband on the amount of prescriptions picked up in a week from our pharmacy.
If yesterday felt like death, today is purgatory. I feel well enough to actually be out of bed, and I've managed to keep the sinus pressure down to the point where I'm no longer involuntarily crying (my eyes watered pretty much non-stop all day). Things have been so horsed up that I haven't checked my sugars since last Friday. Oops. I feel OK on that front, so I think that things are OK.
The very nice ER doc (really, he was by far one of the better ones lately) asked how I'd been eating. Husband piped up that he didn't think that I had been for almost a week. I couldn't dispute him one way or the other. I know that my keytones (a measurement of the chemical that burned fat gives off in your urine) were off the chart earlier last week, but I've been trying to be better. However, at my GP on Monday, I was still down another pound. I know that it's normal for overweight women to lose weight during pregnancy, but this is freakin' ridiculous. My OB was OK with it last time-not so sure if I'm off the hook for my next appointment. It feels strange to be struggling to maintain weight, when I've spent most, if not all of my life, trying to lose it.
If anything, I got a very strong reminder last night in the ER exam room of why I need to get my act together. Not just the cute little boy who, yet again, flirted with the nurses and "helped" the doc with my exam (a doctor in the family would be nice.......), but rather that I could see little girl visibly kicking. So hard that it made my gown and my rapidly expanding belly jump. She's found a way to work around the whole placenta thing, and I've been feeling her consistently for about a week now, which is reassuring since they told me not to worry about any decrease in movement last night when they gave me Tylenol 3 (to try to get my coughing under control). She wiggled pretty much all night, despite the codeine.
I'm not too crazy about all of the stuff that I'm taking right now, but I just couldn't function if I didn't have something. The wheezing and lack of full breath scared me the most, and prompted the ER visit last night. No way I was going to suffer through the Urgent Care wait. We were in and out of our local ER in under two hours. NOW they can send me the patient survey.
Well, now that I've returned to the land of the living, I've got to dig my laptop out of the car, try to find something to eat, and try to get ready for a presentation that I have to give tomorrow. Work may be abbreviated tomorrow, but I need to try to show up. Still sick enough to prove that I wasn't faking, but well enough so my admin doesn't douse me in Lysol when I walk in the door. Knowing her, my office has already been hit.