My kids are fed up. They’re sick of both of their grandmas being sick. Their sick of us being sick of it. They’re sick of changes in schedule, flip-flopping of plans, and modifying just about everything. They don’t like it. They hate it. And they’ve decided to replace their grandmothers with a lifesize cardboard cutout.
This late-night announcement came just hours after Grandma J’s lung cancer surgery and minutes after Grandma’s decision to delay her Alaskan cruise scheduled for today. This of course means that the kids couldn’t go on the giant cruise ship for a tour — this grandma sick business is really cutting into their summer fun.
Our moms are both sick. @La_Gringa’s mom had a cancerous tumor cut from her right lung yesterday — a horrifying orderal that’s gone on for over a year. Despite crap-house stats for lung cancer, Grandma J. looks to beat the odds with a very early stage tumor and extremely good overall health. But yesterday, during the five-hour surgical procedure, it sure didn’t feel like the good news that it is. It felt like hell for the entire family. And although kids are clueless sometimes, it was hard to miss the frightening undertone from the past several months. They sense that something is out of kilter, even if they can’t put their finger on it.
My mom is doing better, but not better enough to be better enough to travel. Complications from CIDP, Lupus, Hepatitis and skin cancer are messing with her vital organs and she can’t risk being away from medical care if things dip, even slightly. Just 16 hours before departing for a week-long cruise, the doctor pulled the plug. Mother fricker. The blows just keep coming.
The kids don’t care about the wheelchair or Grandma’s ballooned-up face. Really they don’t. But it does affect them, “I am sick of my grandma being sick,” Thing 2 said while waiting for her pasta to arrive yesterday. “I’m hungry and dont’ want to talk about this,” replied Thing 1. Ah, the female-male dynamic of managing crisis. They went on later to tell me they wish they could make a life-size cardboard cutout of their grandmas and carry them around doing all the normal stuff they are used to doing. Convinced that they could still visit the cruise ship, they schemed how to make a cardboard replacement for grandma. “What’s the difference? We can put the fake grandma in a wheelchair and just roll her up the plank to the ship.” The planning went on and on until I chimed in:
You can make a fake grandma and take her anywhere you want, but your real grandma will still be here waiting to do it herself.Read More
It started the night of my brother’s wedding: chills, nausea and severe headache. Thing 1 was sick. One day turned to three, then six, then 12. At two weeks, after begging for a flu test, the pediatrician finally told me that it was completely possible my son had Swine Flu, but there was nothing to do about. Nothing to test, noting to get excited about. Except when my daughter got it. And then, me.
We never had a flu test. Why? Because, as the pediatrician explained, the county of Santa Clara was running short on Flu tests (the horrific swab up your nose into your fricking brain) and if there was no hope of diagnosis in the first 48 hours, then there was no medicine to administer (if caught that early they would have given Tamiflu), that the germs had already spread, that, unless we had compromised immune systems, then we were clear out of luck. Oink.
So here’s what I know: antibiotics didn’t help either of my kids, but did help with some of the side effects from being sick for over two weeks (ear infections, sinus infections). I got Pink Eye from having so much coughing and congestion. So fucking pretty, I tell you.
Here were our symptoms: A relentless, smashing headache. Really, such a headache I thought my head was going to fall off. Thing 1 also had a horrific headache for a week, maybe more. Thing 2 had a headache also, but it didn’t rule her world as much as it did for Thing 1 and me. In fact, 10 days later, I still have a headache. Imagine the worst hangover of your life.
Other symptoms we had were typical flu stuff big time body aches, neck, back, extremities. We had congestion and very sore throats, to the point where, as our son described it, “I can’t even talk and my head hurts too much for anyone else to talk.” I had the chills one day, but my kids had them for a couple days. We all had a high fever for a couple days, then a lingering low grade fever for over a week. Thing 1 threw up once and his appetite is gone. There is nothing, not even the Swine Flu that can stop my appetite.
After trying to piece together whether or not we had just the regular flu or the Swine Flu, I found out that several families at school have had it recently. In fact, it’s darn well going around school. For some its not bad, other’s it’s a doozie like it was for my Thing 1 and for me. The pediatrician also told me that most of us are going to get Swine Flu this season. And maybe twice. He also said we were not likely to get a vaccine, nor get treatment since we are not in high risk groups.
If and when you start to feel like complete shit, then it’s likely the flu. If you start to feel like you’ve never, ever felt this strange before, like you are severely hungover without drinking, like your head is going to explode and that you are so tired you are falling asleep at stoplights. then you might have the Swine Flu.Never fear, it passes.
I’m not sure in the end of we had the big Oinker or not. Either way, I am having bacon for breakfast.Read More
Thing 2 has an ear infection, Thing 1 has a sinus infection and I have Pink Eye. This could go two ways this morning: Fuck You Flu or, well, maybe only one option.
The pharmacist literally started laughing when she saw me today come in with a prescription for my cough and one for the Pink Eye. She just shook her head at me. But instead of Fuck You Flu, I said:
“My daughter might have an ear infection, but she can hear. My son might have a sinus infection, but he can smell. I have Pink Eye, but I can see.”
So, Fuck You Flu, you can’t bring me down.Read More
Three bouts of the stomach flu in three months had me at my knees (literally). When I saw this posted in the hallway of Candlestick Park (at the 49ers vs. Redskins game!), I had to grab a picture. Here’s to not needing the Vomitory any time in the near future.