Thursday, March 4, 2010

And round three goes to the husband...

It was only a matter of time before my body succumbed.

Last week it was the mother of all head colds/sinus infections, and an almost frenetic dependency on NyQuil. (So maybe that last part is a bit dramatic, but you have to admit the phrase "frenetic dependency" is absolutely delicious, is it not?)

It seemed a miracle that on Sunday I emerged from my pressured stuffiness as if nothing had happened. I had enough energy to chase around the eight (yes, EIGHT) 3 year olds in my charge at church, and was excited to start the new week unencumbered by illness.

I knew it was too good to be true.

It started on Sunday night. Mild pangs of nausea that I attributed to my deep-seeded hypochondriac tendencies and perhaps a bit too much food. On Monday, these pangs had developed into full-bodied waves of nausea, to the point where I thought I might vomit if I shifted my weight in the wrong direction. I didn't have any other flu-like symptoms, so I was befuddled by my mystery illness.

As the day progressed, the waves would subside back to the mild pangs I had previously experienced. Tums softened the acidic war that was raging in my insides, but did not completely quell the feeling that I could vomit at any moment.

Remember how I have an irrational fear of throwing up?

Monday night brought hours of sleeplessness and discomfort. It took all my will power to get myself out of bed and to work on Tuesday. And that day was fraught with the punching staccato of nausea that caused me to leave work early. (At this point, I almost wanted to throw up, just so the pain would stop. Yup, I was desperate.)

I came home in a flurry of frustrated tears, to a tender and understanding companion. He put my on the couch, covered me up and went to go get me some soup and medicine. (He had to go all the way to Soup Kitchen in Sugarhouse because that was literally the only thing I could think about eating without feeling sick.) He brought back the delicious fare with a magazine for good measure.

He is such a good, caring man.

Which is why round three goes to him. It's because of him that I woke up on Wednesday feeling exponentially better.

The jury is still out on the cause...

I think I may just have an ulcer.

1 comment:

Brad and Britt said...

I love how you write...it is a talent that I am jealous of!