after a mundane friday evening looking at convertible car seats at target and picking up mai's for dinner, everything seemed to be trudging along as usual.
but then, i spent the better part of saturday running around town with this weird little knot in my stomach. it was there after eating leftover rice. it was there picking up a pastry bag and icing tips at michael's. it was there when i got a chocolate donut at starbucks. it was there when we actually purchased the new convertible car seat at target. it was there when i didn't find any shoes at whole earth.
it was no big deal, though. whatever. i just handed the baby over to brian to keep from having baby parts driving their way forcefully and unexpectedly into my abdomen.
i felt just fine enough to meet evelyn solo at cosmic cafe for a large dinner and dessert. but, on my way back to the car, i started to think maybe hazelnut cake might have been one step too far.
i got home just in time to put the baby down for the night. i hadn't been in there five minutes before i called brian for back up. i sensed something might be amiss at the back door. and was i right. "whew!" i thought, thinking that should have cleared up whatever had been knotted up inside me all day.
then, an hour or so later, it happened again. "gee whillikers." before i knew it i was doing an emergency wipe while pulling towels on to the cat littered floor just before throwing myself down on to them in an urgent attempt to sidestep certain vomiting. yes, i will lay on a floor with my face centimeters from litter of dubious cleanliness if it will keep me from retching. after all, hanging on to a toilet seat with your hands and chin isn't exactly hygienic either, now is it?
so there i was moaning and writhing and hotly sweating while brian made his usual offers to take me to the emergency room (he still doesn't understand that me on the bathroom floor is pretty normal when nausea is involved). basically, it was starting to shape up a lot like this night.
the sweating subsided and i was left with cramping and just general, non-urgent-yet-still-forceful nausea, plus the body aches associated with a 34 year old body laid out on a tiled floor and unwilling to relocate more than three feet from a toilet. i kept a watch on the clock hoping that after two hours, i would be well on my way to recovery.
i did finally make my way to the couch and then to bed. come morning, i started dreaming in a loop about not feeling well. it was so irritating, i finally woke up. i had that phase where you think you're all spic and span until you realize you're not. i bolted for the bathroom for a repeat of the old bowel evacuation / towel arrangement / sweating / noseplant... this time, on a floor much more questionable. and i still didn't care. oskar was trapped in there with me and trying to drink out of the toilet as much as possible. brian tried again to tell me that no rational person stays on the floor instead of going to the emergency room.
i finally made it to the couch once again and spent all of sunday drifting in and out of agony. my bowels had pretty much dried up and i cycled through thinking i was better to thinking i was going to go nuts with the sickness. i was even more worried when my heart started beating strongly enough to see its vibrations in my stomach.
then it was time to see Decision April 2007 through... because saturday morning, brian had made the call to the lady at the vet and told her we were ready to give harry to her friend. the two of them showed up around five in the evening. i was heartbroken that i hadn't gotten to take him for a last walk and play fetch in the courtyard. i realized brian was about to send them all off through the back door when i managed to croak loudly enough for him to bring the dog into the living room where i was immobilized so i could say one last goodbye and sob like a baby. poor harry. i was so sad to think of him being led off on a leash by strangers to wonder what had happened to his new family. and i felt even worse when i realized lamby had been left behind. even if he peed on the floor alot, he was a really good dog.
monday rolled around and i found i was still cycling a bit on the nausea and definitely on the fatigue and weakness and palpitating, so brian stayed home to help with the baby. but before committing, he did ask if i didn't have some sick time that i could use instead. i think he forgot that the baby doesn't give sick days.
tuesday, brian had 14 loose stools. but he did not suffer nearly as gloriously as did i.
i still have little appetite and wouldn't say no to a nap, but i'm mostly better. what's even more smashing is i've finally broken 130 and passed my pre-pregnancy weight. and yet, i somehow look fluffier than i did a week ago. i'm sure i'll be back up to 130 by this weekend.
while i was on my deathbed, brian learned that we have some rapscallions checking out our parking lot. they stole (one of) robert's 1981 mercedes. i'm not sure how they got away with that under the ever-watchful Eye of Ann. we fancy that robert managed to leave the doors unlocked and the key in the ignition. joann said it had 600,000 miles on it. there's no other way it could've gotten stolen than to have it handed over on a silver platter buffed with the alzheimers. the rims were also taken off an SUV. i'm glad to know the ford is relatively safe in tyler. now, how to keep them off the camry's premium rims...
ps: it's totally weird watching that baby standing freely for 1-4 seconds. him and all of his growing up.