Almost Post-Flu Irrational Rant

Warning: Irrational Rant Is About To Ensue.  Proceed At Your Own Risk.  Seriously.  Consider Yourself Warned.  I'm A Little Crazy Right Now And If You Remotely Like Me, You May Want To Stop Reading.

I know there are people in this world that suffer so much.  Sickness, emotional stress, loss…every single day terrible things that happen.  I always try to keep the little issues in my life into perspective.  Everyone is fighting a battle of some kind and I realize that most are worse than mine.  But today…after a week like this week…I just want to scream.  I want to scream as loud as I can, as if it would help in some way.  Although, the truth is, it would just send me into a coughing fit that would likely last the better half of an hour.  So.  I won't.  But just know, I want to.

Sunday night we started getting sick.  Really sick.  Influenza sick.  The whole family.  I won't go into all of the details, but Influenza is not funny.  And if you are wondering - yes, we had flu shots.

Our week has included:

• Fevers.
• Coughing and chest discomfort that relates closely to an elephant repeatedly stomping on you.  (Oh - and if you are almost 37 weeks pregnant and you are coughing so hard your whole body is behind it - you will have contractions….and you will pee.)
• Difficulty breathing.
• Adverse reaction (Ben) to Tamiflu, an anti-viral drug, that sent him into a severe vomiting day and ended in a face full of broken blood vessels.
• A flu test for me (apparently flu and pregnancy together are a BIG deal, and doctors will scare the sh!t out of you if it happens to you)  I didn't know you (well, a doctor) could stick a stick up your nose six inches.
• 16 phone calls with different doctors: general, pediatricians, OBs, you know, all the good ones.
• Rebound fevers for Myles every night, even after full days without.
• A medication list that I am required to take (despite arguing with both my regular doctor and OB about - they insist the drugs are better than me not breathing…really?)  that scares the sh!t out of me.
• Worry.
• Constant wonder if it will ever end and if we are all going to make it.
• Counting baby kicks to see if she is doing okay.
• The whole family wearing masks so we don't re-infect each other (extra fun when you are not breathing well anyway). 
• Wonderful phone calls and texts from concerned and praying family members.
• Closed front door drop offs of supplies from my caring Mother-in Law.

Okay, there is more, but enough b!tching I suppose.  Today, we had declared was it.  Ben and Jillian have been better for a while.  Myles has been pretty good despite an occasional and random fever.  I have been the worst, but yesterday the anti-viral drugs must have clicked, because I had marked improvement.  Today was going to be the day that everything got better.  Better enough that we can get dressed by Saturday.  Baby steps I suppose.

So, I am taking Myles's temperature and I lift up his shirt to find…..a RASH.  I smiled, took his temperature (98.9), asked him if it itched (yes), and went ballistic over text to Ben.  Seriously!??!?  Why the hell do we need a rash too????  I need to get ready to have a baby.  I need to disinfect this plague from my house before a tiny little baby comes home here.  I need to get back to growing a baby, instead of losing weight laying on the couch everyday.  WE NEED TO MOVE ON.

Instead, now I needed to call his doctor on this new development and send my husband texts that include every swear word I know.  And you know what?  Auto-correct won't even LET ME SWEAR.    No iPhone… I do NOT want to say DUCKING.  Sometimes enough is enough and this is enough for me.  I'm done with this.  I haven't left the house all week and taking a shower was the biggest accomplishment of my week.

Ben read all of the texts and asked all of the right questions…what can he do?  should he come home?  what does the rash look like?  what is his temp?  You know…all of the right things.  I read them breathing my shallow breaths (heaven forbid I take a few deep breaths and cause a coughing fit until tomorrow) and continue my freak out.  Of course there is nothing he can do.  There is nothing any of us can do but wait for this crap to LEAVE my house.  His last text though………ticked me off so much…….but only because he was so right……

"We're almost there.  Just close your eyes and say a prayer, babe."

So I will.  I will.  But first…this rant.  But I will.  And it will get better.  Gotta go.  My kids are asking when it will be warm enough to swim in the lake.  They must not have heard of this Polar Vortex B.S.