It started with a rumble in my stomach. I'm used to a rumbling stomach as I'm always hungry, however, this rumble was different. This rumble wasn't kind. This rumble meant I had a stomach bug.
I tried to ignore it. I choked down some Imodium and set off to work, thinking possibly it was a fluke thing. Fluke it was not.
I text my husband: I think I'm sick. I think I need to leave work.
Husband: Like sick how?
Me: Like the big D.
Husband: Just tell them you're sick, and you have to leave.
Me: I'm embarrassed.
Husband: You're going to be a lot more embarrassed if you shit your pants.
Sometimes, my husband it just so right on.
I left and drove quickly home. Puking began shortly after I arrived, and I conceded the fight, I was sick.
Christmas was still a week away. Surely I would kick this little bug by then. I tried to look on the bright side. I've heard of people paying for colonics - a procedure done in a spa that cleanses your colon. Well, courtesy of boot camp, I just got a colonic for free! Score!
I kicked the stomach bug quickly enough only to find that Cameron had a fever. Diagnosis: Influenza a.
This seemed unfair. This poor kid's birthday was just a few days away, and I was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to celebrate.
I was right. She opened her presents during a coughing fit while spitting up into a bowl. Then she headed into the ER.
|Cameron being treated in the ER on her 6th Birthday.|
She was released a few hours later with a breathing machine and some stronger drugs to help her kick the virus.
With my immune system having been compromised by the boot camp bug, I, too, fell to the flu.
I haven't had to flu in years, and I had forgotten how horrible it felt. The coughing like knives to the chest. The stuffy nose. The body aches. The fever.
At one point as my fever reached 103 degrees, I went numb. Nothing hurt anymore. I actually felt peaceful. I questioned whether this was death. I felt nothing.
A few hours later, I felt everything. I was drowning in my own face. Sleeping with my mouth open, I awoke with so much drool and snot on myself that I practically needed a floatie on my head to sit up.
Christmas Day, Justin took the healthy children to my parents and Cameron and I stayed behind.
My mother brought over our food and our presents. Cam and I dined on steak, potatoes and asparagus. It might as well have been dog food, because I had lost my sense of taste - ok, now this was death.
As I sat with Cameron on my lap, it felt a little like 6 years ago, when my little girl, who was born on Christmas eve, layed with me in the hospital while the rest of the world was celebrating. It wasn't Christmas, but it was the greatest gift I could have received.
|Cameron Noelle. A few days old. 2006.|