I Have Walked A Mile In Their Shoes, And I'm Way Impressed

I feel like all I do is whine anymore. But seriously, it's been a brutal few weeks here. Once the puppies stabilized, I got to have all the fun. Last week was like I was enrolled in The Malady of the Day Club. There was that cold that set in, and my chest felt like a 20 pound cat was sitting on it. All the time. I don't even like cats. I like them less now because of that fat, imaginary one. (Sorry, cats of the world.)

And then I got that weird flu thing. I would have questioned it's name had Josh not suffered from it the week before and been diagnosed by a doctor. Fever, chills, general achiness. While I mentioned a few times that day that I felt like crap, and my entire life's goal was to simply live, I know for a fact that my body spoke for itself and I didn't need to add words to the screamed misery. I have a much greater respect for Josh. The boy came home from school with it and spent the evening laying on the sofa. He wrapped himself in a blanket and went to bed early. Not once did he complain. Not once. Can I tell you that I have never been so cold in my entire life? You know I lived 4 winters in Alaska, right? My joints ached with the cold. I was in bed fully clothed, with 3 extra blankets on the bed, and still I shivered. And ached from the cold. And Josh never said a word when he suffered with it. That kid is made of strong stuff. But I've always known that.

The day after The Worst Case of Chills Ever, my chest hurt again. That darn cat was back, and brought a few friends. It left me gasping for breath. I couldn't speak a sentence without stopping to suck air. I sounded like I'd just run a marathon when I was on the phone. Sexy. By mid afternoon I finally realized that I should see a doctor before the weekend. (Thankfully they're good about squeezing you in last minute when you say, "my chest hurts.") I'm now on more meds for bronchitis. Becky gets bronchitis every year. Sometimes she gets lucky and gets it several times a winter. She never complains. She simply says, "Mom, I think my bronchitis is back." Have I mentioned that my chest hurt? Like a 20 pound weight was permanently camped on it? And Advil did little to help with the pain. I feel like a wuss with my complaints when Becky says nothing about the pain, and she lives with it so frequently.

My kids never cease to amaze me, in so many ways. Last week I learned that my kids are way stronger than I am. I have a much greater appreciation for the fact that they can tolerate pain. And I know to get them to a doctor immediately if they ever say anything hurts.

This week, I just hope the fun is over. I'm not sure we need much more. And for the record, I'm feeling pretty awesome now that I'm on every drug known to man. Also? The puppies have decided they only need to eat every four hours now, all on their own. My sleep time will now be doubled. Life is sweet indeed.

Freshly Bathed

1 comment:

Flea said...

We're getting old, Karen. Being sick as kids wasn't as bad as it is now. Now it can kill us if we don't nip it in the bud quickly. Take care of yourself.