Thursday, March 14, 2013

Will This Week Ever End?

Will This Week Ever End?
Monday I was gifted the stomach flu by students.  My husband was out of town all week, and since I hadn’t been to the grocery store last weekend I was sadly lacking food and liquids to ride out this storm.   I called my 77 year old mother and asked her to bring me the bland foods I needed.  I arranged for her to drop them on the stoop rather than come in, I wouldn’t have her infection on my conscience. 
As the week went on I’d occasionally have a ten hour stretch without symptoms, but the re-occurrences were nearly as vicious as the onset.  Late afternoon yesterday I ran out of the over the counter diarrhea medicine I’ve been eating like popcorn at a movie theater.  Mom came to the rescue once again.  We reenacted the hands free hand off.  I feel guilt for missing school all week; I don’t want her sickness adding to my guilt.
Today I surrendered and called the nurse.  After checking with the doctor I was directed to go to the E.R. for fluids and lab work.  I know the illness and aloneness has exacerbated the tearful reactions I’ve had the past two days.   I called my husband weeping; all my friends are at work.  I knew I wasn’t strong enough to drive myself.  With his encouragement I, once again, phoned my mother.  I had to rely on my mother for assistance.  Bless her, she willingly offered to drive for me.
As I gathered everything I need for the ride to the hospital I grabbed yet another bottle of the Sprite Mom had delivered Monday.  I’ve been forcing myself to drink any liquid I can stand.  I rode to the hospital with my eyes closed against the head ache and alternated between my water bottle and soft drink, desperately trying not to get dehydrated. 
The whole drive I kept as far away as I could, using every germ control technique I know.
 I even sat two chairs way from her in the waiting room, “I don’t want to infect you Mom”, and I’ve told her that all week.  After a moment my name was called. I stood, saying “I’ll go alone.”  I don’t want you to get this Mom.” I shuffled off to the exam room.
Just knowing Mom was there was comforting.   The first seven attempts to draw blood were unsuccessful.  Yes, it took eight pokes to find a good vein for a blood draw.  On the 4th attempt the 3rd phlebotomist finally found a spot for the IV. I lay in the quiet room, resting, watching as slowly the meds in the clear bag started working.
 Three hours later, with several prescriptions in hand I walked back to the waiting room, I was re-hydrated and feeling stronger already.  “Thanks Mom.”  I repeated again as she stood up to leave.  “No problem,” she declared, pulling out her keys and an empty soft drink bottle.  “I hope you don’t mind I drank your Sprite.” 
My 77 year old Mother had just enjoyed approximately 19 ounces of contaminated Spite.
 Will this week ever end?


  1. Oh no!! I hope your mom doesn't get it. I guess if she does, you'll be delivering Sprite (noncontaminated) to her. Hope you feel better soon.

  2. You really needed your Mom this week and I am going to pray that her being there for you will NOT result in sickness. Not everyone catches viruses when they are going around. Hope you are on the mend and Mom stays just fine.

  3. Yikes! What a week! So glad your mom was there to help you! Hopefully her immune system is strong enough to resist the bug!

  4. What a crummy week. I hope the gift from your students is one you didn't re-gift.