Archive for March, 2013

March 1, 2013

Le plus ca change…

by Decemberbaby

Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

I’m on antibiotics. Again. For mastitis. Again.

I think I might also have a sinus infection, which would explain the feeling of *holycrappleasestopinflatingthatballooninmyheaditsabouttoburst!!!!!* I get every time I sit up. The doctor assured me that the Keflex I’m now taking for the mastitis should knock out any sinus infection as well.

In the meantime, I’m learning a few things:

1. I’m only fat because food tastes good. No, seriously. Right now I can’t smell anything at all, which means I can’t taste anything. And absent taste, food has no particular purpose, so why eat unless I’m feeling hungry? And is that why people gain weight when they stop smoking? Because suddenly they can actually taste their food?

2. I’m a very lucky woman to have so many friends and family to call on in times of need. I’d like to send a shout-out to L, who picked N up from school at lunchtime and drove him to my parents’ house; to M, who fed N lunch and got him settled for a nap; to my in-laws, whose devotion to our children is such that they didn’t even flinch when asked to pick up K from school and N from my parents’ house and then come here and babysit all three kids for 4 hours; and, of course, to Mr. December, who kept me supplied with hot packs and tea and blankets all through the feverish shivering hours of the evening and night.

3. Antibiotics are magical. I can imagine only too well what a week or more of this suffering would be like without them. A couple of hundred years ago a fever like this would have had my husband and children fearing my demise. Now it just means yet another visit to the doctor and a heart-to-heart conversation with my pharmacist. What a time to be alive.

4. We (as in Mr. December and I) need to teach the children to knock. Moreover, I think we need to repeat our lesson on what constitutes an emergency worth waking a sleeping parent (Hint: if there’s no fire and not more than a litre of blood, it’s not an emergency. Either fix it yourself or WAIT.)

5. We have finally established circumstances under which the phrases, “I want you to look at my breast” and “can you please massage the underside of my breast for me?” can in no way be construed as a come-on.

6. Shit happens. We all know that. But it only happens on the floor when mommy is very sick and just the act of bending over to wipe said floor makes her howl in pain. Well played, universe. Well played.

I’ll see you all when my sinuses clear.

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