Once again my young charges arrived at my house full of snot a few weeks ago. Theodore sneezed one morning and ended up with two strips of thick, green snot swaying about 6 inches past his chin. His mom had obviously not even bothered to have him blow his nose before she dropped him off. Seriously! Coach was still home, and this scene ticked him off. After I had de-boogered Theo, Coach complained that I hadn't taken a photo of him. He wanted me to text Gretta, 'Come pick up your kid.' You can thank me in the comments for NOT taking and sharing that photo.
Coach and most of the kids had colds too, so this time (unlike last time) it was just a big germ fest. It was hard to say who started the germ that ultimately sent me to the doctor yesterday.
I am kicking myself. My sore throat started back on Dec. 8th. I know this because it was before all of the fun we had getting too and from the United Center: me with lots of tissues in tow, and the confiscated water bottles. I decided to be proactive. I took my advair (steroid) inhaler in the hopes that keeping my chest open would keep me healthy. One night I crawled into bed and realized I forgot to take the inhaler. Who can get out of bed when it is cozy in bed and cold in Chicago? The next morning, I decided that I was mostly better. I convinced myself that I was over the hump and wasn't going to get really sick.
Wrong. Friday I felt like I had a hairball in my chest. I did a nebulizer treatment that night so that I could sleep. Then I woke up and went to the doctor. My chest was killing me. Bronchitis. The doc prescribed a Z-pack, a prednisone pack, and some other boring stuff. The prednisone causes me to be wide awake at weird times.
I came home and asked Coach to grab my stuff at the pharmacy when it was ready. There is some weird phenomenon that happens at our drug store. NOTHING is ever ready when Coach gets there to pick it up He is a lot of things. Patient is not one of them. Everything is ready when I go to get it. I agreed to call first to make sure he could swoop in, pick up, and race home. Then I realized I needed to go to the grocery store.
I was about to do my usual: 'Oh, never mind I will just go.' But instead I took a crazy amount of time drafting a detailed grocery list for him. Details like: 30 apples. I learned back when I didn't drive or 7 weeks, that Coach translates 'apples' to about 6. I debriefed Mini on half of the list and sent her along. Yay, me. Of course the phone rang countless times asking for help.
All I know is I now have a teen girl whose eyes were opened to what my grocery store adventures are like. AND while they were gone, I got to update my address list so I could finally print envelopes out for my Christmas cards.
Hoping I feel better soon because today we are going to get a Christmas tree. Damn it. In the meantime, being on prednisone is like finding time. Imagine what else I can get done if I don't sleep for the next week?
I once had a doctor tell me mid-December that I had bronchitis and needed to rest. Must be a nice fantasy world these men live in, right?
I can't send Larry to the grocery store. I just can't.
I told Coach that we weren't desperate for lunch meat. My doctors said I need to start requesting to have the slicers at the deli counter wiped down, because I have had lots of trouble inadvertently getting gluten in my diet lately. So this is a new angle to grocery shopping - being high maintenance. Not looking forward. Anyway, I said if they are busy (on a Saturday, hmmm, what are the chances) just ask them to cut the meat on a clean machine in the morning. I will pick it up later. He texted me complaining about what a hassle it was to wipe down the slicer. WHY???? Active listening - it's a thing.
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