For those of you who missed my posts (I flatter myself), I apologize. I literally dusted off my laptop today and checked my blog for the first time in weeks. Basically, what happened is, everybody died.
Well, maybe not died. But it’s been a rough couple of weeks. My doctor told me last month that pregnant women have very weak immune systems – I’m about as susceptible to the flu as an 80-year-old. That’s not good. (I got a flu shot.)
About 3 weeks ago, while preparing to move to a new apartment, I came down with a cold. Not one of those “sniffly nose” colds, either; it was more of the “feels like somebody shoved a wet octopus up your nose and into your sinuses” variety. Also, I was terrified to take any medication, because every box you buy over the counter tells you to ask a doctor before you breathe if you’re pregnant or nursing. So, while Ethan went student teaching during the day, I stayed in bed and blew my nose. By the time our contract at the new apartment began, we had almost started packing.
Fortunately, we had paid through the end of November at the old apartment, and we had several weeks for the moving process. In the evenings, we slowly started packing and moving what we could spare. Between my stuffy face and my pregnant brain/body, I wasn’t much help – but between us and a few friends, we managed to get the bed and some necessities over to the new apartment and moved ourselves in, if not everything we owned. A few days later, we managed to get the rest of it all into the new apartment, cleaned the old place, and turned in our key. We were living from boxes, but we were all in one place.
By this point, the octopus had moved from my sinuses into my throat and upper chest, and I had developed a smoker’s cough. Lovely.
I was also spectacularly bored. Those of you who know me are well aware that most of the stupid things I do happen when I’m bored.* Ethan kept telling me I wasn’t allowed to move anything, because I was nearly 8 months pregnant, and we didn’t want me to go into early labor. Or hurt myself. Naturally, I got bored, disregarded his advice, and moved in some of the books. A book doesn’t weigh that much, I reasoned. Of course, a whole box of books does – and I ended up tweaking** a muscle between my ribs.
This hurt for a couple of days, especially when combined with the hacking cough I had developed. Adding to my general health complications, an 8-month-old fetus leaves very little room for a bladder. That means that every time my hacking cough started, I went running for the bathroom. Few things hold as little dignity as sitting on the toilet with your pants around your ankles, coughing, peeing, clutching your side, and groaning all at the same time.
After a few days, the rib was starting to heal, and life was starting to get bearable again. My family came down to help us unpack (thanks, guys!) and we made some serious headway on the home front. Then I had a particularly bad coughing fit. After a spectacular cough, I felt something in my wounded side expand like a little balloon, then pop. A whole new wave of pain came, and stayed for the next few days.
At this point, I asked for a priesthood blessing – which brought some relief, especially by mentioning specifically that I would heal, and that the baby would be fine. I should also note that while my body was being shot to pieces, the baby was getting increasingly wiggly. This was good; it meant I wasn’t worried about him.
I slept on my left side for another week, while my right side started to mend, and the cough slowly abated. I made a breakthrough a few days ago, when I realized I could laugh or cough without any significant pain. Hooray!
Then a few days ago, Ethan called me on the way to student teaching. He had pulled over somewhere in Draper to throw up by the side of the road, and he needed me to contact his professor to let her know why he wouldn’t be at the elementary school. Having done this, I crawled back into bed (on my left side) to wait and pray he made it home alright. A long while later, he managed to drive himself home, and spent the next 32 hours bonding with the toilet.
After much dysfunction and misery, I am happy to report that Ethan’s intestines have forgiven him whatever sin he committed, and my chest and sinuses are almost back to normal. I can now lie down on my right side for upwards of 10 minutes at a time, if I get the angle just right. And my head has cleared enough for me to do some writing/editing, if I feel so inclined.
I might not have any work to do for a while, though. My boss called today. He’s been sick all week. ♦
*This is closely followed by the category “Stupid Things I Do For a Cheeseburger.”
**Pulling? Tearing? I did something, and my muscle was not happy about it.