Fool's journey - Days of Bitterness Episode II
So, indeed, it went faster but then so much much worse, before going better.
Days 15 to 20 have been quite cosy. Nothing much to do or to care, except staying in my lymphatic phase. Been able to sleep whole days for a change, and not caring about thoughts. I admit I have somehow lost count of time, and forgot to watch which day it could be.
And then, on February 2nd, baoum! Number Four is ill, rather spent poor little one, utterly disappointed to miss Crepe Party at school and cafeteria and turns to have Chicken Pox (Would be a blessing for Number Three to catch it too, but he's already gone through several epidemics...) So, I spend my days with a little worm tail besides me. As could be expected, he is in turns over eager and active (and shoving my bed and mind with all the household cookbooks and his brother's science books to pass the time!) and overwrought. Disappointed that there is no school work coming his way, but then half the class is down with Chicken Pox too...
So, I began to feel rather poorly and not a little sorry for myself... And return with a vengeance of heartburn and bile. The only thing I feel thankful about, and it is rather in poor taste: somebody (???) forgot to close the car during one night, and the battery is empty as well as frozen. So, one neighbour tried to help us with wires, the whole family + my bro tried to push the car and start it again, but no, it had to wait until Sunday that my husband could put a new battery to get it OK. So, they had to walk back and forth to the village for one freezing week... and I stayed in bed.
During the week break, I thankfully sink even lower in my bed alternating painful sessions of heartburn, while the others take care of Number Four...
Things begin to collide on Monday 13rd. I am dragging myself in the kitchen, not yet sure I'll be able to drive Number Three to the bus stop, when my bro suddenly appears: Mum was found in her kitchen by her help, rather delirious (“my Mama will bake cakes...”), he must go to work, could I please visit her till the doctor arrives?
So, here I go, put Number Four in front of Mum's telly (yes I am an awful Mum!), put myself in bed besides a loudly snoring Mum, and begin path between the sink, Chantal the help who is worried and comes back for news and... at last, the doctor. Too much blood pressure, Maman doesn’t remember anything and is more than surprised by what she is told, but she speaks thickly and is rather incoherent. Doctor prefers to call an ambulance for some exams. I stay after her departure, preparing some change of clothes in case they decide to keep her. Then, I go back home and collapse in bed, just barely thinking to (correctly) nourish Number Four before passing out.
I feel like I am out of an Harold Lloyd or Buster Keaton film... The whole bloody show complete to the piano music... Wait a minute, it will get worse or madder. Let me die! Uh, finally - no. Please. My mind seems to be set on overdrive. Even sleeping, I see words and stories going on and on and on.
Thursday 16th, I drag myself to the family doctor, who says I have caught a special brand of gastroenteritis, which causes the heartburn. Sends me back to bed. I prepare Number Four's last lunch home before going back to school and spend subsequent slumber in bed till morning with my mouth watering for his clementine...
Friday 17th.
My fast will end today. This has been a 29 day Fast. It nearly got out of hand, so I am decided to end it properly, as it is the most critical and difficult thing to do. Learning to eat again is the most difficult thing after a fast. Usually, two to three days fresh fruit juices. Then, the whole fruit. Then, slowly introducing other foods, always waiting as long as possible before coming back to meat. On the other hand , one must also try to understand what the body asks.
Thankfully, there is so much ice that Number One's school bus can drive, and she comes back home. At 14:00, I ask her to make a glass of clementine squash. Feels like I've never tasted something so sweet.
Two hours later, I'll need orange juice. And so on every two hours. In the afternoon, Number One tells me I briefly delirious, since I thought Number Three was in my room.
For the night, I decide I'll not submit anybody to squashing oranges, so I prepare carrot juice and try to eat an apple very slowly, milking any possible juice, and leaving the pulp. Very bad idea. The tiny pulp of the carrots and apple make me sick for hours. Despite horrible thirst, I abstain of everything again for half a day, till my stomach revolt stops. Anyway, even water and tisans have the most revolting bitter taste.
Sunday 19th begins with fresh orange and clementine juice again. And day passes slowly, I am so tired and heavy.
I have another episode of delirium, since I'm sure for three times that I'm discussing with my sis in law (who is in India with my bro). The last time, I realise there is something fishy with the way she says we will go sit in the sun. It's freezing. When she compliments me on my new bathroom and says “I hope it doesn't mean there'll be another mistress in this house or I won't come back”, I realise something is definitely wrong, and I go to sleep.
Manage to go for a slow walk with Number Three in the evening. Irrepressible hunger for stale bread. So, I eat stale bread, very slowly. Don't worry, it's stale French bread, so in fact delightful croutons. Eat some during the night too. Can't sleep. Want to be sure the dryer stops before going to sleep. At 2:30, I'm still hearing it and decide to get up. Finished a long time ago. So, what is that thumping I hear, like trucks driving round and round? And my heart is bumping, bumping, bumping.
Monday 20th
I wake up one hour too early, and can't relax again. At long last, I call the boys up after the girls are gone, and feel my body weighting so much... I can hardly walk. The trucks are still rolling in my ears, Number Three makes me realise there is no noise and I've had acouphenes for two days. It will have to stop.
I slumber in bed at 7:45 and fall dead asleep till 12:30.
I wake up exhausted and realise my body is awful, but for the first time in months, I am expecting something.
Go a little earlier than usual to pick the boys, and have Number Three helping me to walk a little in the forest. Means I walk very slowly with a stick, head slightly spinning, and the boy stays ready by me in case I should fall or falter. Nothing happens, but I need the confidence his presence ensures.
I call my friend Josiane, for the first time in months, and I tell her “I feel I just woke up from a tomb.”