Full Disclosure

A few updates and then no more whining.

No, I do not have a plastic surgeon. That was sarcasm.

No, in spite of all experience indicating the contrary, I did NOT have the flu OR pneumonia. An invasive nasal swab and an assay of blood and urine tests confirmed against the flu, favoring instead “Pyrexia of unknown origin” and “Viral Infection NOS (not otherwise specified).” I am a conundrum. Doctor called it ‘ILI’ or Influenza-like Illness. Bastard virus.

Besides a persistent stuffy head and phlegmy cough, my cesarean scar feels like it has been ripped apart on the left side, sending shooting pains up under the mama-belly fat on the left side. No, it has not actually been ripped apart. The coughing has just yanked on the abdominal muscle incessantly and pulled at the tight bit of scarry tissue there. But heed this, oh ye who might consider ELECTIVE cesarean: It’s not a teeny little scar. It’s a big, honking, baby-sized scar. Mine is a big sweet smile that stretches almost from hip to hip across the top of my pubes. I wouldn’t give it up in a heartbeat, representing as it does the gateway into the world for those three awesome Sonars. And scars heal, but they don’t always heal in predictable ways, and I have to think that doing your best to push that kiddo out au naturale has less of a chance of leaving you feeling like your stomach is being split in two every time you catch a bad cough.

On the up-side… I wrote 63 pages on a script that was a lot of fun until it ground to a screeching halt with the onset of ILI. ScriptFrenzy ends tonight with the page count thus. I am really proud of what I wrote, and proud of my ability to crank out ideas and words when the universe conspires to grant me healthy working conditions. The story is one that I think I will work into novelly form rather than trying to finish the script on my own time. I really encourage any of you who started a script (ILEANA!), even if you only wrote one page, to head over to the ScriptFrenzy site before midnight local time and enter a page count. Do not discount the warm fuzzy power of the page-count widget, even if you only enter the number 1. Okay, full disclosure, the page-count widget for NaNoWriMo is more warm and fuzzy, but ScriptFrenzy is on a budget. Still!! Your page-count is awesome and it is yours! A year ago, could you have imagined that you’d even try a script? It’s so cool.

*sigh*

Ok, back to disclosures.

April (hereafter known as the Month of the Endless Demon Virus) was a bitch. I am having a seriously hard time feeling good right now. It would be easy to blame it on the bad bout of viruses, the long slog between getting myself and the rest of the family nominally healthy over the past few weeks. Spiced with the disappointment about falling short of the writing goal. But the truth is, I think I was struggling with enthusiasm and satisfaction even before The Month of Endless Demon Virus went awry.

I am trying to remain hopeful. My family is awesome. I have good people and good things in my life. (count yourselves among them) I know this. I am trying to remember to be patient. To let myself heal. To get through all of the sick drugs and start eating normally again. To not get frustrated when I can’t do all of the things that I normally do.

The patience is a struggle for me.

While I wait around trying to be patient, I’m trying to do a few things that might help things along. I’m taking all of my medicine (which is thankfully almost finished). I’m trying to eat good food and drink gallons of water, and a lot of chocolate. On the theory that my body might be missing something, but I can’t figure it out because I can’t smell or taste anything yet, I am planning to bring home a variety of flavorful foods from the grocery store tomorrow, including some spicy nori rolls with wasabe, the fixings for lasagna with Italian sausage, the fixings for a key lime pie, a jar of hot salsa and some good tortilla chips, and a bag of doritos. Yeah, ok, the doritos might be a bit redundant with the tortilla chips. I’ll get a coke instead. Right now, I am enjoying my first beer for three weeks. It is good. Heck, maybe I’ll even get the ingredients to take up the Yummy Mummy’s hot dog challenge. If I can manage to breathe, I might even run.

Sonar X5 has counseled (sweet child) that I should try doing something crazy. With a wrinkled-nose-smile and a giggle he shrugged off specific suggestions though, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one. Sonar X3 suggested that it would help if everyone tried to be nice. Hear hear. Sonar X7 suggested the lasagna. Partner suggested a strategic application of hot oil, though the language he whispered in my ear was much more colorful.

Bring it on. I’ll try it all. It would just be so nice to feel a little bit good for a change.

So spill it. What do you do when you feel a little blue? What strategies and rituals and tips do you employ for a little warm fuzzy, for a little bit of good when everything else gets you down? I’m only asking because I suspect the next step might involve velcroing the children to the wall and throwing plates, and nobody really wants me to be THAT person. Not even me.

Satan is Winning

Look, honey, Mummy’s brought you some presents! I got you a new book. And a Nip/Tuck Barbie, complete with lipo-pump and four sizes of removable silicon implants! And next week, I’ve scheduled us for a Mommy-and-me Medi-spa day for a little botox and chemical peel.

Just you wait until you’re 13 baby, and Mummy will share her plastic surgeon with you too!!

Keep that wheel turning, baby! Only two more pounds to go!

Statistics

With apologies to the Harper’s “Index”:

• $748.72; our monthly health insurance premium.
• $15; copayment anytime one of us wishes to see a physician in a clinical setting for any reason.
• $100; copayment anytime one of us wishes to see a physician in an emergent setting for any reason.
• $95; cost for the ineffectual flu shots we got back in October.
• 6; number of days this flu took to infect all five of us, as measured by first onset of symptoms.
• 6; minimum number of pounds I’ve lost since first onset of flu symptoms on Thursday.
• 4; minimum number of pounds lost by Sonar X7 since first onset of flu symptoms last Monday (I stopped checking, this freaked me out too much).
• $150; average monthly drug costs for our family, including allergy and asthma meds.
• $217.96; cost of one week of additional drugs for treatment of the flu (still accumulating).
• $60; cost of doctor visits during this epic flu battle (still accumulating).
• $29.95; cost of the “Cough Your Way to Rock Hard Abs” DVD, hosted by Archie Fleming.
• 2; rank of “Coughin’ to the Oldies” among most popular fitness DVDs for “mature Americans.”
• 1; rank of Feeling Like Your Tongue’s Been Ripped out by the Root in underreported injuries among subscribers to Archie Fleming’s Cough Your Way to Fitness series.
• $29.95; cost of a cool hat, snazzy stainless steel water bottle, and some sunscreen to take with you outside, where you breathe fresh, clean air and move your body in a way that doesn’t make you feel like you want to die.
• 500 (est.); loads of laundry we did yesterday.
• 1 (min.); large loads of laundry washed with the Load Size set to Small.

Figures cited to the best of my frenzied recollection as of as of five minutes ago. All figures have been adjusted for hyperbolic effect, except for the weight loss and actual health costs, which are really that horrifying. No seriously. Go ahead and multiply 748.72 by 12. I’ll wait. Now know that we consider ourselves lucky to have such good (though pricey) health insurance. My sister has to work nine months before she earns that much money, and she does that without receiving any health benefits whatsoever. Yeah, I know it’s wrong too. And yeah, I think “mature American” might be an oxymoron. Go drink some orange juice.

Fevered Brain

Last night in the flip-flopping as my temperature wandered up and down from 100F (37.8C) to 103.5F (39.7C),* I discovered The Energy.

I was covered with what I thought were tiny little blobs of energy that hummed and shivered and fluttered when I moved, then settled in an ordered layer over my body when I was still. They covered me, the bed, Partner, the floor. They were everywhere. Why had I not been able to see them before?

Partner slept on, but through some Obe Wan, Jedi master, mind-spirit communication thing, we talked about the little blobs. We discovered that they weren’t Energy per se, but Matter. We had discovered the ability to sense matter in a different way.** And not just sense it. Manipulate it too!!

By concentrating our thoughts on these blankest of matter we could change their shape and properties. We could release limitless amounts of energy through the manipulation of their blobby little bonds. We could create from them anything we desired or imagined.

I thought these little things were great—for a few hours. but then the little matter blobs became more insistent, their shuffles taking on a bit of a pestering clamor and waking me up with every one of my flip-flops.

By the time the room filled with light and I sat up seeking a gallon of water to sooth my parched throat, I was relieved to find that the matter blobs had melted away from my perception once again.

I preferred the hallucinations on Thursday night that involved a red 1972 Camaro SS with a black top and its sexy driver. Much less freaky those.

___________________________

*I have the flu (not to several of you, it turns out my lungs were clear and I do not have pneumonia…yet). It sucks. Maybe I’ll tell you about it some other time. Note that besides the fever, two of my drugs conspire against sleep. One of those also contains a narcotic that gives me weird “dreams.” And a third one gives me the shakes and a clutching sense of anxiety. Not restful. Though I’m told that they are all working to restore the efficiency of oxygen exchange in my lungs so that I can drag my butt out of the recliner long enough to pee and drink water and occasionally brush my teeth and hair.

** Yeah. I know. Everyone can sense matter. Matter is everything. Give me a break, I was hallucinating.

A snort of approval

No. Not that kind of snort.

Thanks so much to everyone for the snot sympathy, and for suggestions about combating the snot.

In spite of the myriad modern concoctions available to root out, thin out, and disinfect upper respiratory mucus, I’ve had the best results with nasal saline lavage. That is to say, squirting saltwater up my nose at regular intervals. Nothing fancy. Half a teaspoon of salt in eight ounces of cleanish water. Squirt.

I’ll admit that as a card-carrying mammal, complete with air-breathing lungs, I was not crazy about the idea of introducing liquid into my upper respiratory passages. But I have to say, that weird as it is, I also find it sort of exhilarating.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. I have never dated a doctor. Heck I don’t even know that many doctors. So my entirely unscientific, anecdotal experiences with snorting saline should not be taken as advice in the treatment of your snot. Please contact a reasonably qualified medical-type person for advice about your own snot.

That said, if you choose to try such an application of brackish water to your mucus membranes, be sure not to blow it out too hard and back it all up into your ears. Blow gently, both nostrils open. No fun to have the saline in the ears. Seriously.

Speaking of sticking things up your nose…

No. Still not that sort of sticking up your nose.

Sonar X7 had gigantic cotton swaps stuck up his nose today to confirm that yes, indeed, he is our next contestant in name that germ. This week’s featured virus: Influenza. Yes, folks, joining us in our parade of germs is this year’s infamous flu virus. Along with its cousin, it has been baffling flu vaccines everywhere. Flu brings along with it a new player to our pharmaceutical party, Tamiflu.

This is our family’s first experience with the celebrity drug, and, as with so many other drugs, the Integrated MedFacts Module (aka the handy flier the pharmacist gives us with our drugs), this one almost makes the drug sound scarier than the virus.

*Common* side effects include nausea and vomiting. Well, hot-dog! He’s already had nausea and vomiting, and while it seems to have passed, let’s go ahead and dose him and see if it’ll come back around.

Even better though, “Patients with flu who take this medicine may have an increased risk of confusion and unusual behavioral changes. The risk may be greater in children.” Yippee! I’m so seriously looking forward to that one, because, my kids are already maniacs when they’re sick.

Where’s that saline?