Sick.
Started as a cold. Has progressed to a mild form of bronchitis (yes, I'm self-diagnosing. Bad doctor!) and diarrhea. Currently, I'm trying to rehydrate but since nothing tastes good, not even water (and I LIKE water), it's hard to keep pushing myself to drink. I'm tempted to have #1Son bring IV supplies home from work along with a couple of liters of crystalloid. I'll see how I'm doing at three o'clock. He's there til 5.
So long as I'm not doing anything, I'm OK and I don't cough. I don't think I've been febrile but my chest and abs hurt from coughing.
Then the puppies got out.
I would headdesk if I had the energy.
I caught them, after trekking what seemed to be miles in the snow and cold, but couldn't keep them. They kept trying to run in opposite directions and, at 70 and 60 pounds, I had to let them go after I wound up on my ass in the snow, panting like a pulmonary cripple at the top of Everest, Ziva's collar in my hand. I staggered back to the deck s-l-o-w-l-y and sat down in my pajamas in the snow until I had recovered enough to make it through the back door. Then I grabbed the phone and called SH to come home from coffee and catch the pups.
Meanwhile, I lay on the floor of the kitchen for half an hour until my BP was above 80. If you can feel a pulse at your wrist/radial artery, it's above 80. Carotid pulse means it's above 60. I couldn't feel my fingers. I don't know what BP that indicates but it wasn't because they were cold. Probably cerebral hypoperfusion.
The cats came and lay next to me on the floor to insure continued proof of life. Cats giving CPR: there's a thought. Chessie would probably have been there but she'd locked herself in #1Son's bedroom. *sigh*
So, my annual vacation the week before Christmas week to get things done has been a bust. I've been mostly in bed since Wednesday. I think presents are all bought. Not sure when I'll be able to get to the grocery store. Nothing's been wrapped, the trees aren't decorated, half my laundry is done but I may have to make do with that. I go back to work Monday. If I'm at all able. We don't get sick days.
SH had an inguinal hernia repair done Monday and is doing great but isn't in any position to do much more than he already has. He'll make a run to the liquor store next week for Tanqueray for my dad and brother. But if he overdoes it, he gets sore and tired. I was hoping #2Son could help SH raise the height of the fence where Ziva gets over it (Victor getting out was entirely my fault. I thought he deserved a run after his sister had been scampering after bunnies. Then Z decided to hop the fence again and that was all she wrote.) but he had to go to work. #3Son is still in bed. It is now 1:50. I may have to legislate/delegate jobs for the three of them, such as decorating and grocery shopping. Yeah. That'll go over like a lead balloon. Kill. Me. Now.
So long as I'm not doing anything, I'm OK and I don't cough. I don't think I've been febrile but my chest and abs hurt from coughing.
Then the puppies got out.
I would headdesk if I had the energy.
I caught them, after trekking what seemed to be miles in the snow and cold, but couldn't keep them. They kept trying to run in opposite directions and, at 70 and 60 pounds, I had to let them go after I wound up on my ass in the snow, panting like a pulmonary cripple at the top of Everest, Ziva's collar in my hand. I staggered back to the deck s-l-o-w-l-y and sat down in my pajamas in the snow until I had recovered enough to make it through the back door. Then I grabbed the phone and called SH to come home from coffee and catch the pups.
Meanwhile, I lay on the floor of the kitchen for half an hour until my BP was above 80. If you can feel a pulse at your wrist/radial artery, it's above 80. Carotid pulse means it's above 60. I couldn't feel my fingers. I don't know what BP that indicates but it wasn't because they were cold. Probably cerebral hypoperfusion.
The cats came and lay next to me on the floor to insure continued proof of life. Cats giving CPR: there's a thought. Chessie would probably have been there but she'd locked herself in #1Son's bedroom. *sigh*
So, my annual vacation the week before Christmas week to get things done has been a bust. I've been mostly in bed since Wednesday. I think presents are all bought. Not sure when I'll be able to get to the grocery store. Nothing's been wrapped, the trees aren't decorated, half my laundry is done but I may have to make do with that. I go back to work Monday. If I'm at all able. We don't get sick days.
SH had an inguinal hernia repair done Monday and is doing great but isn't in any position to do much more than he already has. He'll make a run to the liquor store next week for Tanqueray for my dad and brother. But if he overdoes it, he gets sore and tired. I was hoping #2Son could help SH raise the height of the fence where Ziva gets over it (Victor getting out was entirely my fault. I thought he deserved a run after his sister had been scampering after bunnies. Then Z decided to hop the fence again and that was all she wrote.) but he had to go to work. #3Son is still in bed. It is now 1:50. I may have to legislate/delegate jobs for the three of them, such as decorating and grocery shopping. Yeah. That'll go over like a lead balloon. Kill. Me. Now.