When it Rains…

March was a rough month in our house and April hasn’t been any better. We have been stuck in a vicious cycle of sickness and “issues.” It started with C bringing a cold home, then I got it, and then dad got it. With my health already compromised from the Mono, I got hit hard. This was the cold/flu from the depths of beyond! It was different for each of us. C got an ear infection and congestion, took meds for the infection, then broke out in a rash for a week because it turns out that the illness was caused by a viral cold and the antibiotics caused the rash. Then I got congestion and, after a few days, got the ear infection. With experience learned from C, I skipped the doctor and treated the ear as I did for him without the aid of antibiotics. A few days after that, I got pink eye. Full-on glued-shut eye. After a few more days, I got laryngitis. That cleared after a week or so and I was left with the congestion which lead to a cough. Meanwhile, the hubs comes down with the same thing. He’d been filling in for me as best he could, making dinners and cleaning the house after working all day; generally being my hero, all while fighting this. It hit him hard in the chest rather than the head and he muddled through as best he could. Unfortunately, he gets bad enough to take time off work, yet he is still trying to help me rest and get better. I take on a bit more, he a bit less. E never really came down with anything – just a bit of malaise because we were all laying around sick.
So here we are, all home for about two weeks’ sick. The worst part of being so sick as a parent is that the children still have energy and want to “do” things. Adults want to curl up and die but, no, we still have to function as if we feel great, with maybe a few extra instances of resting between chores. On one of these short “rest breaks,” I was laying down chatting with my mom on the phone and I got the whole dry-throat-coughing-fit. We end our call and, as I’m sitting up, I coughed. The world went dark as a sharp, stabbing pain hit me full force in the low back. I’m suddenly crippled. I can’t move without leaning on something. What just happened?!?
I was worried. About 3 years ago, I seriously injured my lower back. I had been sitting on the floor of the living room struggling to dress my tot (as you do) for preschool so that I could head off to work. Something about the bent legs and reaching out to grab a squirming arm or leg as this kid keeps playing the catch-me game was just the right combination to do me in. I ended up with two herniated discs. Three months of bed rest and six of physical therapy brought some semblance of independence again.
I never want to get back to a place where I can do nothing for myself so, when I feel that stab of pain in my lower back, I’m scared. I immediately call out to the hubs and tell him what happened. In comes the cycle of ice and heat and days of bed rest. Really, I can’t say enough good about the man I chose for my forever. He has been amazing through all of our ups and downs. We both are worried that I’m headed back to a bad situation of the back so, he just takes over. I’m sent to bed.
After a week of self-imposed bedrest, he takes me to the chiropractor. Just in case I need help getting up again, he even came in the office with me. It turns out that (pause for effect) I had sprained a ligament in my low back, right about the same spot where my discs are injured, located just after the nerves are no longer protected by the spinal column. I’m in danger of permanent nerve damage if, for some reason, they end up twisted around themselves. This has partially started and is a dangerous issue with long-term consequences. So, back to bed rest and, the chiropractor actually forbade me, in front of my husband, from doing any household chores for the time being.
Wow, a break from myself. How often do we ever get that as moms? Answer: never. So, at first, I’m joking about needing a bell to ring, playing things up a bit; I’m having a stay-cation. However, 2-3 weeks in and I’m bored. I’ve been allowed to be up and move around, to do some light housework but still no laundry or anything that involves bending. I’m at that fine line where each day I start out feeling pretty good, and then I find that I’ve done too much at the end of the day. Each day I risk overdoing it to the point of a major setback. This hangs over my head day in and day out, warring with my desperate need to be busy and productive. It’s in my personality – I need to be doing things. So, I’m cranky and restless.
Last week my aunt came to spend a few days helping out. She is an amazing woman. She cooked dinners, played with my kids, and even moved furniture. I am in awe of her. I don’t know how I’ve gotten along all this time without that extra help. Then, this week, a dear friend came for a day and did the same thing. Cooked dinner, cleaned up around the house, took over school duties so I could rest. She even arranged a play-date at the park for C to get out and enjoy the weather, knowing that he hates playing alone and that E won’t go out because of his bee phobia.
Things like this, over the past few weeks and months, have made this rough patch a little more bearable. I’m more mobile now, able to cook dinner and, some days, do a bit of light housework. The biggest issue is not being able to do the laundry because of the bending and stretching in and out of the machines and folding.
That being said: Let’s talk about my day today. It starts out with the dog throwing up on our bed! Nothing gets you up faster than the sound of vomit whether it be a spouse, child or pet. So the dog is puking and I get him outside. We head back in, he eats breakfast and seems totally fine. Brat dog! I help the hubby get off to work with a nice breakfast and lunch and I turn to cleaning up my room. Thankfully both dirty spots super momwere on blankets so I can just throw them in the wash. Expect I’m not supposed to. I start stripping the bed and discover the mess has already soaked all the way thru to the mattress protector. So I strip and load everything into the washer that will fit. Our comforter is oversized and won’t fit in our machine. So into the bathtub it goes with a bit of laundry soap and I set it to soak. Then I go to wash myself up but I can’t get rid of the smell though. Ugh! So I change and wash again and, thankfully, I think it’s dissipating. Then it’s time to fix the kids breakfast. C says he’s not hungry. WARNING! This kid lives to eat, so I know something’s wrong. Sure enough, he’s feverish and just has that sick look. All I can say is, “Really?” Again we have sick in the house. REALLY?
Well, when it rains…
No worries, I got this, bad back and all!

Published by brianna480

Hi, I'm Brianna — Wife, chef, cleaning lady, teacher, crafter, DIY-er, multitasker and a Stay-At-Home-Mom of two quirky kids. My husband and I have been happily married just over 20 years and continue to grow together. We try to live a simple life. We have a small home, a bit of land, a dog and chickens. We live in a small community and life here can be calm and peaceful, or hectic and crazy at the drop of a hat. A quirky kid is a one who doesn’t fit the mold or conform to what you would think a stereotypical kid would act like. They see the world differently, act differently, and, due to a lack of understanding, may be labeled as a “bad kid.” We love our "quirky kids" and every day with them is an adventure. Sometimes I laugh at things they do, sometimes I cry at things they do and, sometimes, happy hour starts early at my place!!

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