Tuesday, October 18th 2016
My morning, depicted in emojis:
1) Driving the kids to school, so I can be there for one of my mom meetings.
2) Been sick for a few days, really not feeling hot, trying to reach a doctor.
3) Suddenly REALLY not feeling well. Like I’m not sure I can make it the 3 miles to school.
4) Call husband in pathetic plea, and detour right into the hospital driveway.
5) Cut the engine in front of the E.R., get out of the car. Tell the kids, “DON’T BE SCARED! Mommy might pass out but it’s OK!” I lie down outside, tell the Girl to sit down and send the Boy inside to “Go get help!”
6) Dude comes out with Gavin; “Hiya what’s up? You wanna get admitted or something?”
7) I’m on the pavement like, asking this guy to help me weigh the pros and cons of the decision.
8) I don’t have much choice. “Naw man I’m good.” Ha. I mean, “Ya let’s do it.”
9) I’m reeled over in the wheelchair and they’re telling me to sit up. “I’m not going to fall out!” I insist. They wheel me in right past triage into an E.R. bed. Cue the parade of impeccably qualified medical professionals, as we know and love in Boston.
10) I do not think I’m going to die, but I feel like I’m going to die. For a long time I’ve believed I might know what it feels like when you’re dying.
11) Either way I gather the words in my mind to leave my family just in case. And while that is a post for another time I can tell you I was not afraid, or sad for myself, and I know exactly what I would say. (Not that it would help I’m sure, but… it helped me feel empowered to be prepared.)
12) I’m NOT okay, but the kids are being SO peaceful and mature. I am SO proud of them.
13) In fact, the first thing they d0 with the paper and crayons given to them by the nurse is write me “GET WELL” cards… like, as the IV is hooked up, lol.
14) Likewise just as soon my ManMeat in shining Chefware arrives by my side. ♥
15) We feel blessed by this exercise of his job benefits, which are still relatively new to us. He had the capacity to abandon his post with no notice like with the support to cover it (save for the probability of 300 steak and cheeses ending up overcooked today).
16) He takes the kids to school while I undergo my first abdominal ultrasound in 5+ years, except instead of babies they’re screening for gall stones (and find neither).
17) The pain is subsiding, I get some meds and start drifting off.
18) Soon I am discharged with prescriptions for stomach virus meds and instructions to REST and HYDRATE. “Can we stop by Family Dollar for the Gatorade?” I ask my magnanimous ManMeat. Of course he agrees. “And 7 cases of cat food?”
19) And thus begins that point in a relationship where one partner falters and the other one picks up ALL the slack; carrying out their own regular duties AND their partner’s. As I write, it is a day later and in addition to all the above, he grocery shopped, made chicken & dumpling soup to order, driven off to a god-forsaken town to pick up work supplies for me (~3,000 animal balloons), and taken the kids to ballet/dinner/taekwondo.
20) This also includes fielding communications across immediate family members and loved ones.
21) Phoning his M.I.L. -my mother- from the E.R.; her response? “So she’s mortal after all.”
22) He also approved my new Cookie Monster pajama “pity pants,” in which to recuperate (and to commemorate my not dying) so long as I promise to rest. So here’s my new reality: Ginger Ale/Gator Ade Cocktail + Cookie Monster Pity Pants.
23) And here is another reality tonight; older child teaching younger child how to cook ramen noodles.
24) I mean, my babies are cooking in the kitchen. All by themselves!
25) Yes we’re gonna be alright. Especially whenever this thing is done blowing over.
26) Whenever that is.