Few things will make a person crazy faster than a house full of sick people. It’s madness. No one wants to eat, but everyone is hungry, but not for that or that. I want this with a side of a little bit of what’s on the top of that. And that’s it. I’m full, but after I try just enough of that to make you waste the last of that other thing.
Repeat for lunch in 2 hours, and dinner 4 hours after that.
I don’t want medicine, but I hate how I feel, but it’s not the right time to take that one, please give me something to drink with this one, but not that. I like the other medicine, not this medicine! That doesn’t go with this taste, I hate how my throat feels after I have that, will I be sleepy? (oh yes, you absolutely will!)
Cough cough cough bark bark cough bark gag.
Sneeze sniff wheeze cough bark gag barf.
Blow my nose! Wipe my butt! Chapstick my face!
Cough sneeze bark fart wheeze bark cough
TV blaring wherever there’s a body to entertain because no one has the energy to do anything except deal with the above two lists of rigamaroll.
Then there’s “when do I call the doctor?”, managing the spouse’s sometimes irrational expectations on what a doctor will do for your child. A cough is nothing to report. A sneeze is not an emergency. It’s not worth what they catch at the doctor’s office to be seen for the inevitable question of, “Is there a fever?” “No.” “Then syonara, senorita, there are other more serious patients this time of year. You will know soon enough because you dared walk through the waiting room without a Hazmat suit today. Stupid.”
Then the barking starts. That’s at least a “we’ll take a look”. That was followed by, “She’s big enough to outgrow it. Come back if it’s not gone in a few days.”
Of course that lands us right at the weekend. We go in each day for the croup cough that goes on aaaaaaall day up until the Benadryl kicks in. It only lasts until about 5/5:30am and the minute her eyes are open, the barking begins all over again.
She’s had 2 steroid ‘shots’ of liquid and it’s not taking.
No, the hot steamy shower does not work. I tried it.
No, the outside cold air doesn’t work. I tried it.
Yes, she’s had a humidifier on every night for a week. No it isn’t helping.
Yes I have stood on my head while chanting the incantation simultaneously sacrificing a chicken during the full moon.
They are now out of reasoning. I’m hearing things like “if she’s not having a hard time breathing, then there’s nothing we can really do now.” Awesome! Let’s wait until she’s blue and oxygen deprived to fix her. Fabulous.
In the meantime, i’m now sick with whatever rampant army germs are running amok around this house. So we’ve gone from semi-compassionate caretaker to sick, grumpy, icky congested medicine pusher. I’m at the point where i’m gonna start drugging them just to get some peace and quiet.
There is nothing like the peaceful slumbering silence of sleeping sick children and adults in a house that has been echoing all the disgusting bodily fluid flinging colds, coughs, and congestion.
My son wanted to stay home sick because he’s beginning to catch the cold I now have. My daughter is home from school with me until we get this seal impression under control. I had the gargantuan task of getting him to school today because I will be damned if after a weekend taking care of my bronchitis-wielding husband I’m now going to deal with 2 sick kids home with sick mom. Too bad, so sad. I’ll happily entertain you both tomorrow after i’ve had one day of slovenly recuperation.
Excuse me now while I go dunk my entire body in Lysol and figure out how to attach hand sanitizer to every door knob.