Everyone is sick with a capital S.
The toddler is taking her inhaler because she's barking like a seal at night. The boogie drainage is out of control.
Hubby is getting better at least, but still congested and napping a lot.
We've managed to infect a relative RN who is staying with us to help care for our elderly relative with lung cancer (she had a large portion of her lung removed this week along with a tumor). Can you say bad timing?
Everyone is sniffing, sneezing, talking like they smoke too much and popping Dayquil and Nyquil.
And I am over here thinking, how am I not sick? HOW?????
Usually if the hubby is sick, I am done for because he only gets sick with new super germs (i.e. he is NEVER sick so if he is sick, it's some serious viral death.) The last time he got sick, I kissed him and ended up puking my guts out which bought me a diagnosis of adrenal suppression.
Sometimes, I am the last to get sick. Sometimes I fight it for weeks before it finally overwhelms my immune system.
I hope that is not the case, but man, am I nervous. Even though I had to take more prednisone than planned, I did just finished completely weaning off the Pulmicort. I will be SO irritated if I have to go back on that shit, you have no idea how pissed I will be about that. Kicking puppies and screaming MotherF*cker pissed (I'll wait until the toddler is asleep/out of the house, don't worry. Actually, I would never kick a puppy, but I might slam some cupboard doors and swear extensively).
Why is it always two steps forward and three hundred miles backwards? Why?
0 comments:
Post a Comment