Wishful Thinking, Part II

A couple days ago I was daydreaming of sunshine and sandy beaches. That still stands, but today my wishful thinking is for this:

Or any of the other wonderful medicines I took for granted as a non-pregnant person. But specifically something that soothes my nasty cold symptoms/knocks me out all night. You know what you can have, as a pregnant lady, if you're erring on the side of caution? Tylenol. And that's about it. WEAK SAUCE.

I did take a Tylenol PM last night. Just one, because I was paranoid to take the whole dose. That helped. Until I woke up wide awake with a burning throat at 3:30 am. And I say again, WEAK SAUCE.

I drank the orange juice. I drank the water. I washed my hands. I even braved the NetiPot. And the germs laughed in my face. And then punched me in the throat. And then took away my cold medicine.

To add (adorable) insult to injury, Sweet Baby James seems to like it when I cough. He responds with enthusiastic flipping and kicking. At least one of us is having a good time with this.

Sick Puppy

Poor Scruff-dog has not had a good couple weeks. I took him to the vet for his annual checkup and shots two weeks ago and turned out he had a nasty ear infection. He also has allergies which mostly manifest in adorable doggy-sneezes but had progressed to his eyes. So our tough guy had to have drops in his eyes and ear every day, which he took like a champ.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, he must have caught some sort of 24 hour doggie stomach flu... if such a thing exists? All I know is one day as I'm walking out the door he started making that horrible heaving sound and before I can usher him off the carpet... blech. And again... and again... Then he didn't want to eat or drink anything, and so I fed him what I feed myself when I'm sick: saltine crackers and Gatorade. Well, actually it was Vitamin Water but you get the idea. That only lasted about a day and a half, thank goodness for everyone and especially for my carpet.

Now he has this kind of hacking cough that he's doing, the kind that wakes me up at night and, just in case, makes me get out of bed and go check on him. Poor little pup.

It's hard taking care of someone (or in this case somedog) who is sick, and I don't think it is especially my strong suit. Visiting sick people is easy for me - I'm good at cheering and no-nonsense advising and gift-bearing. But really caring for the sick requires lots of patience and mercy, and if I'm being honesty those are two big weaknesses for me! Still, I know God wants to develop those things in me, and I think this past week He might have used dog barf to inch me a little closer.

Opportunities for lessons learned aside, I really hope Scruffy is better soon and back to his normal self. Or rather, as normal as a mostly-super-chill, other-dog-hating, weird-phobia-having, backwards-walking puppy can be.

How I Spent My Long Sick Weekend

For the past four and a half days, I have been sick. This is pretty rare for me so it has really sucked. And to make matters worse, until yesterday afternoon, Ben was still gone in Japan so I was all alone. Just me and Scruffy in my Den of Germs (aka my house). My time sneezing, coughing, and running a fever can be summarized with the following four actions:

Watching Lost. I had decided I wanted to start rewatching the older seasons of Lost. And you know what works great for that? Days of uninterrupted time in which you want to do nothing more physically taxing than sitting on your couch within arm's length of a Kleenex box. I watched Season 2. And Season 3. And I'm starting Season 4 right now. What a way to spend four days. And as an added bonus, it's helping me remember some important connections for this season. SOMETHING TO NEVER FORGET: Benjamin Linus is a lying liar who lies.


Eating Baja Burrito. I don't know why, but the only thing that sounded good to me for the first part of being sick was Baja Burrito. It isn't even my favorite burrito place, but I NEEDED it. I went there three times, and each time I saved half my burrito and ate it for a later meal. You do the math.
Taking my temperature. I have always had this fascination with taking my temperature, but I hardly EVER run a fever. So imagine my twisted delight when on Thursday night I busted out the little digital thermometer and it read me at a toasty 102. Woo!
Sleeping. I didn't ever get a full night's sleep, mind you, too much coughing for that. But nevertheless, I spent at least 78% of the past four days either asleep on the couch, asleep in my bed, or at the very least snuggled beneath a large fluffy blanket. Nothing wrong with that.

I'd like to give some sick props to Jon & Heather, who answered the call when I was about to go insane from being in my house too long. They took me out to dinner and didn't mind when I asked to go to Target so I could get a new trash can. They didn't even laugh at me too much when I was walking around the store in a sort of craze/daze, fanning myself and wondering why it was so freaking hot. (Hint: it was the fever.)

Finally, I have to add a small note about Ben. He came home on Saturday afternoon to a fussy wife who couldn't even give him a proper welcome home kiss for fear of spreading the sickness around, but he has been nothing short of wonderful. It's so very nice to have someone to look after you when you're sick and tired and tired of being sick. He got me medicine, and rubbed my back, and tucked the covers in at the bottom of the bed where I'd kicked them out in a fevered fit. He loves me very much, and I am so happy he's home.