Bah. I don’t feel good and I can’t sleep anymore and I’m the only one awake. There’s a very childish part of me that wants very much to find a way to wake Sam up so I won’t be alone. No, I wouldn’t feel any better, but darn it, I’d have company!
But I’m not actually 3 years old, so I won’t do that.
Yesterday, I had a coughing fit that started around 5 am. It was turning into an asthma/anxiety attack, so Sam brought me a Xanax. I don’t take those often at all, as evidenced by the fact that the bottle I have was a one-month supply prescribed 4 or 5 years ago. One of the reasons I don’t take them often is that they knock me out completely. I could barely manage to get the oatmeal Sam made for breakfast from bowl to mouth, and yes, I ended up wearing some. The spoon was just too technical for me at that point.
I was completely unconscious (but not coughing!) by the time Sam left for work. Katie checked in on me periodically, and apparently gave me some Dayquil around 2:30. Sam called to check on me a couple of times, but whatever was said is a mystery to me, as I was in a benzodiazepine coma. I think I finally got up around 6 pm after he was home again.
I just couldn’t shake the grogginess, though. For the first time ever, we had to re-schedule our regular “date night” because I was a zombie. Back to bed with me, then—and I didn’t even remember to take my normal sleepy-time meds. I was vaguely aware of Sam coming to bed at some point.
At about 2:30, my body informed me that we were Done Sleeping and would now move on to babying my tummy.
I’ve had way too much IBS fun over the last few weeks. At first, we thought I had some kind of food poisoning, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. No, my system just got hyper-reactive very suddenly. I haven’t had this much IBS trouble since we lived in Stone Mountain.
Even if I take a supplement like Lactaid first, anything dairy (other than aged cheddar cheese) seems to be a Very Bad Idea. Chocolate is also a problem. But sometimes, a simple hamburger will cause a mad dash to the facilities. I’ve had several days on the BRAT diet, but as soon as I add anything more complex than Saltines and cheddar cheese, I’m in trouble again.
And now I read that the BRAT diet is no longer recommended—when did that happen? What’s this CRAM (cereal, rice, applesauce, milk) nonsense? I’ve never heard any doctor recommend any dairy product for someone who has tummy troubles!
When I was growing up, the only time we got soda was when we had the stomach flu or something similar. Soda and Saltines were the most pamperings my mother ever did. Why am I not surprised, now, to read that you’re supposed to avoid sugary drinks like soda?
I’m drinking lots of water but can’t seem to stay hydrated no matter what I do. I suppose I should be concerned about electrolytes, but I detest Gatorade, and I’m certainly not going to use Pedialyte (although I do have a recipe for making an equivalent, somewhere around here). I don’t have any idea what other alternatives there might be.
That brings me to now. I’m too wakeful to try going back to bed. I’m hungry but afraid of putting anything but water in my system. I’m bored, bored, bored with the book I’ve been reading. I’ve read all the magazines that are around (except for the current issue of Seed, which nobody can pry from Katie’s hands. I think she sleeps with it—it certainly isn’t in evidence out here). I can’t seem to follow the directions on my stitching project, and I’m too grumpy to kit up a new one.
I’d say that I want my mommy, but I don’t, as she’s not much of a caretaker at all. I want my Sam. Pout.
|Originally published at Enemy of Entropy.|