I somehow got the flu this weekend. I am laying in bed, waiting for the theraflu I just downed to send me into a coma so I can hopefully sleep for 8+ uninterrupted hours. While I should be switching the throw up smelling laundry over, vacuuming the floor that looks like my son crushed up an entire box of saltine crackers on it, loading 4 days worth of dishes into the dishwasher, or emptying one of four trash cans filled with tissues, water bottles, and empty medicine tabs, I am blogging about it. Don't judge. I can blog while laying down in my amazing tempurpedic bed. All that other shit requires a lot of effort and strength, which I don't have.
Being sick sucks for anyone. Even if you have a significant other, it is never fun and it always seems like the housework gets behind and life starts to get a little chaotic. However, there is someone else to feed and tend to your children if you have a significant other. Or they bring you a can of chicken noodle soup. Or a cup of ginger ale. Or fucking anything for that matter.
Let me explain what my house of horrors turns into when I get sick.
So Saturday started out perfect. I had my favorite breakfast of cold pizza and xyience and went to the pool with my kiddo and bestie. PERFECT. But around 5pm my throat started to hurt and my ears were aching and I had a headache. So I took a small nap. And by took a small nap I mean, Bowen was playing Super Mario on the Wii and I came to my room and passed out like I had been day drinking and popping mollys at Rehab. (Only my Vegas people will truly appreciate that) I woke up at 8pm to my kid poking me with a sticky finger, telling me he was hungry, while he carried around a half empty box of Captain Crunch.
So I got up and realized I felt like complete and total shit. I walked into the living room to see that, while playing Mario, my wonderful child had left cookie and chip crumbs all over hell's half acre. I mean my living room. And that every single blanket and pillow in the house was thrown about and empty water bottles and juice boxes littered the place like an entire kindergarten class had a throwback for the last 3 hours. I made my little brat pick up the trash and blankets and took him to get some food. He got a happy meal. I got some sprite. We were good to go. I took a handful of allergy/cold medicine and he and I happily passed out on the couch while watching some horrible kid's movie on netflix.
Sunday morning rolls around and I wake up to find that my throat feels like I have swallowed a million knives. My head is pounding, my ears are going to explode. It is obvious, death is right around the corner. And on top of all of this, we haven't had AC since Friday night, so it is hot as balls. Not only was I dying, but Hell had come to Earth apparently.
Sunday I spent the entire day downing theraflu and sleeping on the couch while Bowen ate popcorn and chips and queso and watched movies and played video games. No worries, ya'll. I was snoozing on the couch, so I could hear everything going on. Basically he was having the best weekend ever. While I was sure I had caught the ebola virus and the grimm reaper was standing in the corner staring at me. This went on, literally all day, until about 7pm.
At 7pm I got my feverish and achy body up, put the kid in the tub and started a load of laundry, unloaded the clean dishes, and then put him to bed. Which was phenomenal because I could finally go to bed for real, for real. So I took some more theraflu and then passed back out. Only to wake up at 3am throwing up. For 5 hours straight. I have to give Bowen props because at one point he came into the bathroom to check on me. Picture the scene out of the exorcism...that was what was going on...except I wasn't screaming obscenities about Jesus bangin me out.
Here is our mid-puke convo:
Me: throwing up violently
Bowen: Mommy, are you ok?
Me: throwing up violently.... Yea baby, I am just sick, it's ok go to bed.
Bowen: Umm...do you need some medicine?
Me: throws up some more.... No, I already took some. Really it is ok. Go to sleep.
Bowen: I think you peed on yourself while you barfed.
Me: Yep. I probably did. Give me that towel...then go to bed.
He hands me the towel and goes to bed. And let me tell you. Throwing up is not an attractive look for anyone. But especially not last night. I mean it was like the worst barfing experience ever. And I did pee on myself. Because when you are 4'10 and you give birth to a 10 pound baby, things like your bladder, never come back the same. And that will always be noticed when you puke so hard a blood vessel in your eye explodes. Sexy, right?
Anyways, I went to the Dr today. She said, "That sucks, you have the flu, here is some Zofran, drink fluids and sleep." It was one of those moments where you can't decide whether to punch the doctor in the throat or just cry. I just cried. And then came home, took some medicine and slept all day.
I don't feel great, but compared to earlier when I felt like someone had beaten my entire body with 49 softball bats, I feel pretty fucking fantastic. Or maybe the meds have kicked in. Probably the meds.
My house is a fucking disaster. The laundry is out of control. I am 100% sure if we vacuumed the living room and poured all of it's contents into a bowl, we would have enough bread crumbs to make stuffing for an entire state. I have no earthly idea what is in my kid's backpack. But I did make sure he got a meal for dinner, like a legit meal. And he is bathed and in bed. I also showered. So that is a plus. And today, that is enough. Tomorrow I will go to work, then come home and clean up this place, but tonight...I am just glad I can sleep. And am praying I don't have to bow down to the porcelain God again. I have had a total of four crackers and half a bowl of chicken noodle soup, so I am thinking I'll be safe, but you just never know.
Either way...fuck the flu. Who gets the flu in June?! The only good thing that has come out of this is the fact that if I had the energy to put on a bikini, I bet I'd look phenomenal. See people, silver lining. That is what it is all about.
Now please excuse me, I am hoping this Nyquil/Theraflu combo will bring on some trippy, yet amazing dreams. Like doing drugs without doing drugs, ya know?? Yolo and shit.
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