Days 46 & 47-- Just Trying to See the Other Side

I don't want to dwell on sickness, since that is what this blog has been about for roughly the past 10 days.  But, the inescapable fact is that someone in this house has been sick for that many days, and it has greatly interrupted our lives and plans.  To be more specific and more current, the sick person has been me since Tuesday.  I am very happy that the other three are recovered, but for whatever reason, the road to recovery has been much longer for me.  I finally broke down yesterday and went to see my general practioner.  I initially called my Obgyn, but he was out for the day and merely called in a prescription for something that I felt was not going to be overly helpful.  So, I went to my regular doc, who gave me a steriod shot, a breathing treatment, and penicillin.  Today, I am something like better, though if I had not experienced yesterday, I would have felt that today was about as bad as it could get.

As such, Barney has been facing a tedious road these last few days.  His life basically consists of taking care of the kids, and when he can, taking care of me.  My parents very thoughtfully offered to take the kids for a day or so to give us a rest, but Barney said no.  I think he is seeing this as a test of himself as a parent and a husband somehow and to accept outside help would be admitting that he can't do it.  And, I have to admit that he really is doing great.  If there was ever a time to show him deliberate acts of love, right now is it.  The problem is that I'm too sick to do much.  I can't drive, can't cook, can't even eat.  He wanted tacos for lunch, and I was all for the idea.  But, he didn't want to eat tacos by himself, and even my offer to go with him was not what he wanted.  All I had to do to make him happy was eat a taco, but I couldn't do it. 

So, tonight, I insisted that he order a pizza, Hawaiian style, for dinner tonight, and then I watched a movie with him (Knight and Day, cute enough).  He's already conked out in bed, so I am taking the late shift to wake George for his last potty break of the night sometime between 11:00 and midnight.  I don't mind because sleeping is the worst part of the ordeal--I just get more stopped up and less capable of breathing when I try to sleep.

I want to end on some sort of pithy or thoughtful note, but what can I say?  I'm pregnant, I'm sick, I'm sick of being sick.  If there's a lesson to be learned here, I'm too close to the situation to see it yet.  So, I will just sign off with one last wishful thought of being better tomorrow and having the opportunity to write about something other than being sick.