Life has been rough lately. I’ve been sick for the last 7 weeks. Yes. SEVEN weeks. Bronchitis, sinusitis, pleurisy, costochondritis. We’ve truly been in survival mode. Alex has watched way too much TV, and I can’t even feel guilty about that because at least he had something to do while Mommy was laid up on the couch, trying not to cry from all the pain. Alex came down with croup the same week that I ended up at the ER because I thought I’d fractured a rib. (That was when I was diagnosed with costochondritis, 2 days after being diagnosed with pleurisy.) And Steven was laid up in bed the entire weekend (of that same week!) with a high fever and just generally feeling awful.
Yep, no guilt that the entire family can pretty much quote all of the movie Cars now. TV has been my best friend and babysitter through much of this. Forts help, too.
While all this was going on, we were also having issues with our new kitten, Theo. While he figured out the litter box in a single night, he wasn’t consistent with it. He was already treated once for a bladder infection, so the vet thought it was now behavioral. I wasn’t convinced. We were cleaning messes off the floor daily, but he was containing them to the same spots, and they weren’t vindictive in nature. When he peed on the bare tile, that was my opportunity to suck it up in a syringe and take it to the vet’s office for testing. I was right; it’s medical. Theo has crystals in his urine, so he and Ninja are now on a prescription diet to take care of the problem. So far, so good. Theo is now consistently using his box. So glad because when you’re already feeling awful, having to clean up feces and urine every day is just lousy.
This week I finally started to feel better. I’m cooking again, after weeks of takeout and eating from the freezer. Good thing because all the meals I’d stocked are now gone. My singing voice still isn’t right, but at least I no longer sound like a 13-year-old boy whose voice is changing when I sing Alex’s night-night song to him every evening. And while I can’t go outside most days of our unusually-cold winter, we did have one day last week that the temps were high enough not to set off a massive bout of coughing. Alex was thrilled to get to play in the snow.
And when the weekend rolled around, he got to go back out with his daddy. They threw snow at each other. Super fun.
My autoimmune issues are causing this to be an extra-long ordeal, and I feel as if I’ll never be well again. But I seem to be past the worst. I can hold my child again without gasping in pain. The coughing has subsided greatly. I haven’t had to bust out the heavy-duty narcotics for over a week. And I can now run errands again without having Steven along to carry Alex and lift him into a shopping cart. Struggling to lift my 34-lb. toddler has been the hardest part of this. Sick and in pain or not, I had to care for my child. Thankfully, Alex has really been quite good while we’ve been mostly housebound for the past 2 months. He’s had his moments of practically tearing the house apart from cabin fever, but in general, he’s been wonderfully well behaved and happily entertained by his toys and movies. Housekeeping fell by the wayside, which made me crazy, but I knew to let some of that go. When I cleaned the entire house this past week, it felt like victory.
There’s a light at the end of the (ridiculously long) tunnel.