... but it didn't quite happen. I could feel it coming on Monday night -- the back of your throat, scratchy sensation that always says, "Tomorrow, you will feel like death." And sure enough, the next day I woke up feeling awful. I couldn't decide if I should go to work or not, but I decided to give it a try and went in. Bad decision. I could barely function by lunchtime, and I even changed my lesson plans so that I could mostly sit at my desk and concentrate on not passing out while the kids worked independently. I went home and immediately dropped into bed and took an hour nap.
I felt progressively worse as the evening rolled on, but still didn't have a fever or anything the doctor's office was too concerned about. However, by the time Travis came home from work I had the decision made and called in sick for work the next day. It turned out to be a fantastic decision, as that night I did not sleep at all, excluding 3 or 4 15 minute increments. I had terrible body chills, so I would pile on the blankets. Then I would break out into a terrible sweat. Lather, rinse, repeat. My head was full of pressure, my nose was totally plugged, my throat was aching, every position I laid in gave me heart burn or made the baby press into my ribcage... not a great situation.
Then around 2 a.m. I took my temperature, and it read at 99.4. A little alarming, but nothing to call home about. I took some Tylenol and continued trying to sleep. Ten minutes later, I felt like my skin was going to burn off. So, I took my temperature again: 100.2. 10 more minutes went by, 100.5, then 100.8. I was trying everything: stripping off clothes, putting ice cold washcloths on my neck and face, moving to a new room, nothing helped. I was pretty worried because I had just taken Tylenol and all I could think was "What would my temperature be if I hadn't taken Tylenol?" At 3:15 a.m. I decided to double check my info from the doctor about temperatures, knowing 102 was the magic number of concern, and saw that it said to call if my temperature reached above 100.2 at any given time. After a small debate, I called it in. I don't know how pleased my doctor was to hear my pathetic voice at 3 a.m., but he listened to me, told me to take another dose of Tylenol, and call him as soon as the office opened.
I called and came in in the morning. I decided to wear my warmest pajama pants (bright blue), the only hoodie I have that still fits (bright red), and my glasses. Pair that outfit with my bright fuchsia coat, and you'll wish I would have documented the look with my camera. I stumbled into the lab for a strep screen, where there was an embarrassing episode of my extra-sensitive-these-days gag reflex making it nearly impossible for the poor nurse to get a sample. (It was bad enough they eventually had me do it to myself in the bathroom). All the gagging brought on watering eyes, which brought on frustration, and all of these together brought on an emotional breakdown in the bathroom trying to swab my stupid throat. Eventually, we got the job done and I moved on to see my doctor.
My weight was good (up a pound), my BP was good, and - most importantly of all - that beautiful heartbeat was dancing loud and strong at 160 bpm. The tests came back negative, and after looking me over Dr. Maurus concluded that I just had a plain and simple terrible cold paired with a fever and chills. He prescribed the usual cold remedies of my mother: clear liquids, lots of sleep, and regular doses of Tylenol.
Travis was also not feeling the greatest (and I'm sure it didn't help to be sharing a bed with the tossing and turning, nose-blowing, coughing, thermometer beeping lady) so he took a sick day to take care of himself and me. We lounged, we souped, we slept, and by bedtime last night I was feeling much better.
Today was back to school for me. I still have a stuffy nose and my voice is nearly gone, but I haven't had a fever all day so I think I'm on the road to recovery. Thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers.
6 1/2 weeks left until we meet our little sunshine... :)
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