Thursday, February 18, 2010

Shoo, Bug...Don't Bother Me (It's No Bueno)

Well after a long day of one of the worst migraines of my life, I headed out to see my family and grab some office supplies for a presentation the next day. After dinner at Taco Bueno (a FORMER favorite restaurant of mine), I hit the after Valentine's Day sale at our local Tar-jay with my big sis.

Much to my dismay, the store was lacking in the pink goodness that comes with Valentine's Day. However, I will count it as a blessing that I was able to pad the pocketbook with extra change not spent. My sister even found my supplies on clearance and I spent a total of $2.28+tax on exactly what I needed.

As soon as we checked out at the counter, my three-year-old niece was rounding the part of the evening where she has to be totally wired or else she will pass out from exhaustion. Hence the rushed exit from the store to get her into the car and back home.

I, on the other hand, made a stop back by my parents' house to wrap up some coursework and tune into the Olympics. Somehow it seems more exciting when there is a "crowd" rather than a cuddle of sleepy pups in my lap. Although, I wished I could have had both.

After a couple of runs on the competitions, my stomach began to convince me that Taco Bueno was no longer "more bueno". Instead, I felt the deep part of my belly wanting to scream something terrible at me. I made the decision that if I got in bed, the pain would stop (no such luck).

On the contrary. As soon as I plowed through the door, my body hit the cold tile, and my stomach had won the battle by forcing the no-longer-delicious food back into my throat and into the commode. Bad deal...bad, bad, bad deal.

After hours of excruciating regurgitation, my fingers found my cell phone and managed to dial the one voice I wanted nearby. Mr. IcareaboutyoumorethananythingonEarth rushed off of work and was by my side in no time (although it felt like a really long time while I was waiting). He slumped in behind me, tucked blankets around me to stop the shivering, dampened washcloth after washcloth, and put up with my pitiful self for over EIGHT HOURS of non-stop vomiting. Yes, I thought I was GOING TO DIE.

He tried to put me to bed (on several occassions) to get me "more comfortable". He offered to change doggie bags so I wouldn't be confined to the cold tile that surrounded me. He brought me numerous water bottles, fixed my tooth brush, handed me the pepto, and even sent out concerned messages for advice to some of the most knowledgable people we know: A) My mother and B) The neighbor across the street that is also a nurse and mother of 2 beautiful girls. If neither of them could calm me, I told Mr. I'mtryingeverythingtohelp that I was going to make him take me to the ER. Fortunately, he knew what was best and continued to work with me until the cycles went from 5minutes to 10minutes and I finally fell asleep.

Morning wasn't much better. The phonecall had already been made to my doctor, and a prescription was on its way. The neighbor had also brought some relief over and I managed to suck it up and take the medicine (not exactly the easy swallow-with-a-swig-of-water medicine either). Through the aches and frustration, Mr. Senseofhumor managed to get a giggle out of my sore ribs when discussing my experience of taking medicine "in the out". I got some rest while I could, and he checked on me continuously over the next day and a half.

"If you want to truly know a person, put them in an emergency with the person they love the most...that's when you see who they really are." I never believed what people had said in the past, but I realize now just how right they were. I am so blessed to be in a relationship with someone that I can trust my life with. Honestly, I don't know if you caught it before...but I thought I WAS GOING TO DIE.

He not only rushed to my side, but he held my hair when I got sick. He turned the heater up and helped me as I went back-and-forth from the bed to the bathroom, to the floor, to the bed. He talked me through everything. He made sure to take care of me and wouldn't leave me even when he knew I was going to be okay. He brought me bouillon cubes and cooked them so I would "drink plenty of fluids". He forced me to drink it even when I whined. He held me and let me cry when I couldn't get my body to stop shaking. Most importantly, he never let me down.

Well, 3 days later and I'm finally out of the house. I admit I may have overdone it today, but I got to see the sunshine and tried to eat something of substance. *Note to reader(s) and self: Yogurt is NOT a good choice if nausea is involved. Who knew?

After all is said and done, I did not die. (You were worried, right?)

I may be days behind in the college world (Don't people factor in...ummm...reality in the "tentative schedule"?) I've got a couple of projects to makeup, and exams that I still feel unprepared for due to the fact that I am so scatterbrained that I put shredded cheese into my parents' pantry and a bag of chips in the refrigerator crisper. This is one time where my sanity can seriously be questioned. However, I am bound-and-determined to make it out of this mess of a week with a vengeance and straight A's like before.

On a different note, the scale officially reads 8lbs less than before, and my ribs feel like they could break at any minute if I tap into the wrong thing. This makes me feel a little better about the fact that I was a bigger baby than I should have been and that my stomach "bug" was legitimately there. BUT I am alive and kicking and blessed with the life I have. So until next time...Shoo Bug, don't bother me!

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