Sick Days by Half.Jak on Flickr
About two weeks ago, Daughter woke up at 5 in the morning and vomited all over the place. And so began a crazy day of her body emptying itself out courtesy of vomit and diarrhea that was on and off several days. It was a nightmare of a stomach virus and it had run rampant through the kids’ school even landing a couple kids in the hospital with severe dehydration.
It sucked Daughter pretty dry too, rendering her already tiny skinny little body into an even tinier and skinnier little body. I fought with her to keep her hydrated getting Gatorade into her in sips and when she tired of that, counting on ice chips. Food was iffy. But slowly she got better and ate more and drank more and now, she’s totally fine.
Last Thursday, I was sitting on the train on the way to work reading 1984 when suddenly I felt very very wrong. I was hot and sweaty and clammy and cold all at the same time. I yanked off my sweater and put the book away. I wondered why I was suddenly motion sick. I’ve read on the train lots of times. I focused on looking out the window and not puking. I felt pale and shaken when I got to work and right away told my co-worker what had happened and that I’d be in my office with my head down to see if it would pass.
A couple of hours later it was my turn to run to the bathroom and after that go home. I pretty much spent the entire weekend lying down either on the sofa or the bed. The only exceptions would of course be the runs to the bathroom. Especially Saturday. Oh Saturday you sucked so bad.
I actually fared better than my daughter in that I was not treated to the combo of body-empyting strategies she was. My body chose one and ran with it. Needless to say, I’m still a bit blegh. I’m eating bread and jello and drinking Gatorade. I’m sometimes hungry but often not. And honestly I’m scared to eat.
Getting sick sucks for everyone. For a single mom, it’s just beyond aggravating.
This weekend, the kids were with their father. And although I was relieved I didn’t have that worry to contend with, I was constantly agonizing about all of the things I usually get done those weekends of mine. Those are the weekends I stock up on groceries. Those are the weekends I do laundry. Those are the weekends I do some sort of major clean up project. And there’s the stuff I do every weekend too.
And here I was laying down.
Today I’ve come into work and there is so much work-related stuff to do. I just sat and plugged away and the hours flew by. I forced myself to take a break, this is it, and I really have to get back to it.
But I’m stressing because of all the time I lost this weekend and what a hectic couple of weeks I have coming up. This was the weekend I was going to study pretty in-depth for my first pre-calculus test on the 14th. I barely remembered to pay bills. I have to do groceries again and have no idea when that opportunity will come. The laundry. Oh my god the laundry. I wanted to get my taxes going. The house is a trashed mess, pretty much in the same chaotic state as Thursday when the kids came home. I’ve got to withdraw the money for the rent. And there’s other stuff that was so clear a few days ago and is now hazy and lurking in the shadows brought on by this illness.
Just when you feel you’re getting things on a schedule, a routine is emerging, and things are clicking you get swiped and too easily things get derailed. The same thing happens at work. I was gone for two days and I have come back today to towers of things that need to get done two weeks ago.
Hi my name is Sisyphus and this is my rock and that’s the mountain I need to get it up.