The art of being sick…

I have never been one to be good at being sick.  I try, really I do.  But I am the kind of person who will go in to the ER at midnight to get relief from what I know is strep throat, and be told it’s only really bad flu, to be called three-day later and be told, oops, sorry you have the flu AND strep throat, sorry. Exactly. I know my strep throat, bitches.  Don’t toy with me…

We have ALL been sick this week, beginning with Lainey, then Ella, and last but not least, me.  I didn’t really think it was strep until I got it, but when I woke up with the sore throat on Wednesday I knew what was the culprit.  Bad mom, I know.  Ella had to be the guinea pig. (Both of my children loathe strep swabs, but then again, I haven’t met anyone yet who was like, “Woo Hoo! Bring on the throat swab, bitches!!!”)  I took her in on Wednesday morning.  Of course she tested positive.  Luckily my doctor is just down stairs from the girl’s pediatrician so it wasn’t a stretch for me to go down and talk with the nurse.  Then I went to get Lainey from school (She had gone back Tuesday) and took her in for a quick swab, and of course, she had it too. Needless to say we were all home on Thursday.

I have a friend that cries on the second day of her period, like clock work. She doesn’t cry often, but when she does, you know.  I am like that when I get strep.  Today was that day.

First off I had to have an interview with the unemployment office, which is nerve-wracking enough.  But then they have very little information to offer,(i.e. when I might get paid…) which wouldn’t be a big deal if my auto loan weren’t in danger of default and I needed a payment by Wednesday, or, you know what will happen. I haven’t been paid since December, which really sucks, but I should expect it. It is  the state after all.  I shouldn’t pin all of my hopes and dreams on an institution that has grown famous for not following through on funding… (Coupled with the fact that I don’t manage my money worth a sh*t, and it was just Christmas…what can I say, I spoil my kids, but that gravy train is screeching to a halt…Pardon my French, but screw what they want.  I’m pretty sure they will want their mom to have a car to drive them to and fro…)

Regardless of all that gibber jabber, It’s time for me to get over whatever the hell it is that has plagued me for a year and a half and suck it up and find a job, anything as my friend Trisha puts it.  Wal-Mart for all the f*ck she cares, just do something. In her defense, apparently I really haven’t been like this all of my life.  I guess in the previous parts of my life I can no longer recall I was motivated, and according to her and my ex, although I may not have been motivated in the household duty area for some time at the end there, I was always motivated when it came to teaching, or work, or whatever else.

So, yes,today I cried. There is not a lot of sympathy when one has children and you get sick.  I can only imagine what it is like to be sick with no children.  I tried to see if dad wanted to take them for part of the weekend, but to no avail.  (Not that I necessarily blame him, we were suppose to go out-of-town to see my brother and his family and had switched up visitation because of it… so I know it’s not his fault that they made other plans…) But still… it was just the icing on the cake.  So I cried.  I was totally expecting a FULL recovery today, but alas, it did not come.  I’m not even sure I should hope it might come tomorrow, but damn it would be nice.  Apparently illness and depression don’t work well together.  I’m also not sure how much longer my liver, or whatever other body part, will be able to function at the rate I have been taking Tylenol and IB profen. Seriously, they should just give me vicatin and forget it.  I don’t do well with feeling like razor blades are permanently housed in my throat, but I guess that’s what I got.  So I’ll live with it…. sorry to be such a downer, but gawd, I had to vent….

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s