Claire came home with the flu a couple of days ago. About 12 hours later, I had it too. It's the respiratory version (Influenza A or B). The initial symptoms are chest congestion and generalized aching. It then progresses to cough, runny nose, sore throat, fever, chills, enlarged lymph nodes and the sensation of someone POUNDING ON THE SIDE OF YOUR HEAD WITH A CLAW HAMMER. It's as if those evil germs from the Mucinex commercial were coughed out only to have decided that they were determined to make their re-entry via the skull. To say that it has been unpleasant is a HUGE understatement.

I had a doctor's appointment today, not for the flu, but the fact that I was ill was fairly apparent. After I arrived back home, Katie started accusing Claire of faking her illness. She is really tired of Claire's unwillingness to leave the couch long enough to play Barbie's. I reminded her that Claire was still sick and that I was too.

Me- "Katie, we are sick, remember? We have the flu. You were sitting right there with me when the doctor was talking about it."
Katie- "No, I wasn't."
Me- "Yes, you were. Remember when he said to make sure that I drink a lot of fluids and get plenty of rest?'
Katie- "He said you should wear a dress?"
Me- "No, I don't think that wearing a dress would really help."
Katie- "Well, I do."

If she suggests a short skirt for the dentist, then I will really be worried.

Reverse Peristalsis

Yesterday I had the misfortune to come down with the stomach flu. It was really bad. It did not really help matters that the other people living in this house were not terribly concerned. I had requested that someone bring me a phone book so I could call the doctor's office and thirty minutes later was still waiting. I finally had to will myself to move in order to make the trip downstairs to get it myself. No one was worried that I was pregnant and really, really sick. I have to admit that it pissed me off that I didn't have anyone helping me.

After completing my journey, I made the call and then had to wait for a call back. The husband eventually came upstairs and I informed him that he would have to go to the drug store for me as soon as I got a call back. He seemed to comprehend but the next sound I heard was the riding lawn mower being started. He decided that I could wait, but the grass, well no, the grass could not wait.

After the call back with instructions on the medication I was allowed to take, I was desperate to get someone to come within screaming distance to go to the drug store and get the medicine. All I heard was the sound of the God-damn lawnmower. After waiting patiently for another thirty minutes, I heard the sound of my teenage son opening his bedroom door. The same kid that would not answer his cell phone the whole time that I needed help. I shrieked loud enough that he really couldn't pretend not to hear me and came to see what I wanted. I yelled, "I need some medicine! Go tell that stupid son-of-a-bitch out on the lawnmower to come in here!"

As soon as he turned to leave I had a horrible realization. The lawnmower that I was hearing at that moment must have been the neighbor's. Standing right behind my son was the stupid son-of-a-bitch himself. That was a bit awkward.

He pretended like he didn't hear the SOB comment and I pretended like I didn't say it. Then I promptly flipped him off when he turned to leave. I can be petty that way.

The medicine did not work and I continued to vomit non-stop. I started to suspect that I had a real problem when my back would not stop aching. I felt like I needed an epidural.

Once again, I was stuck upstairs in the bathroom and no one would come to check on me. I tried calling the husband and my son but they wouldn't answer their phones either. My son William finally came upstairs and got the husband for me. I told him that I had to go to the hospital and get an IV for the dehydration. He was not pleased but took me anyway.

I noticed in the car that I was having a lot of contractions that were way too frequent. By the time I was hooked up to a monitor I was having them every two minutes. They started the fluids right away and gave me an injection to stop the vomiting. My back still ached BAD and I was still vomiting. Another shot took care of the nausea and I was finally able to drink.

I was really lucky to not go in to labor over that considering that I have a history of preterm labor and birth. My oldest son was born at 28 weeks and I have been getting weekly progesterone injections to try to prevent a preterm birth with this baby. All I can say is that I was too sick to think clearly. Also, the nurse practitioner on call for my OB should have questioned me about my history. Then she would have known that I should have been in the hospital way before it got that bad.