Once upon a time, a mom woke up on Valentine’s Day hoping beyond all hopes for a brand new laptop. Instead she got this:
Four days of not being able to walk due to a back spasm/pull/broken something-or-other. (The day was saved by my sweet mother who flew in to take care of the children and me.)
During which time hives broke out on my son, which turned out to be strep throat.
Right after which, my daughter vomited. Ugh. Which turned out to be strep throat.
Which led to a bad stomach thing resulting from the antibiotic.
Right after which I got a headache. That lasted 8 days.
Soon followed by the sensation that someone was slicing the back of my eyeballs with a razor blade, but only when I was using my eyes.
Followed by the razor blade sensation pretty much 100% of the time, including when my eyes were closed and I was trying to sleep.
I won’t bore you with the rest of the symptoms, because they pale in comparison to wanting to pop your own eyes out of your head.
Yesterday afternoon I was finally feeling better after seeing the doctor, starting an antibiotic and seeing the chiropractor again, when I went to pick my kids up from school.
My son’s teacher came to the car with him saying this:
“He almost looks like he has that slapped cheek look. Like Fifths Disease. His cheeks have been red all day.”
To which I replied:
“Oh, his cheeks get red when he is hot. I bet he’s fine.”
I was thinking I should have put him in a short sleeve shirt since it was now 70 degrees outside. My bad.
Then we got home and I checked his legs. Which were covered in a red rash. Which then moved to his arms. Yeah, Fifths Disease.
So here I sit, 13 days later. Still hoping beyond all hopes for a little old laptop.
Oh, and that we can pull ourselves out of the cesspool of disease that is our house and get on with life again.
(Assuming there are no more plagues that befall us this weekend, I have so much else to talk about. I promise to stop complaining. I think. I mean, I will try my best to stop complaining. Really.)