Remember yesterday when I wrote about feeling like I was going to vom? (No. Not pregnant.)
Well, I felt “better” and then I got a headache. And then my rib cage and lungs ached. Weird, right? I thought it was because I lectured so much yesterday. Like, the act of drawing so much oxygen into my lungs had expanded them beyond capacity or something.
Dan, my awesome knight in shining armor, got me some Advil (generic, from Target) and I took it and felt better.
And then I woke up this morning. With a sore neck, ribcage, lungs, and legs. And another headache. So I took more generic stuff and went to work. And then I noticed that my throat was hurting. And my headache was gone but not really.
I started freezing. And my kids were all “IT.IS.SO.HOT.AREN’T.YOU.HOT? MUTINY!!!” and I sat on my stool SHIVERING with freezing hands and feet. And they were all looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
(Uh, yeah, turns out the thermostat was on 80. Ooops.)
Then I went to practice. Y’all. It was 96 degrees today with a nice breeze blowing. I stood outside FREEZING. I wanted a hoodie or a jacket or something. In AUGUST. People who heard me say I was cold looked at me like I was insane.
I left early and picked Joshua up and he sounded awful. He has this hoarse cough and just sounds so not good. So on the way home, while still freezing, I called the pediatric on-call line and had them call me back.
(Turns out, there’s nothing to worry about with him. We’re just supposed to watch him. Uhhh, okay. Doesn’t make me feel better as his mother.)
Either before or after the on-call nurse called me back, I took my temperature.
With Joshua’s thermometer. coughcough Not a Temporal Artery Thermometer coughcough
(Don’t worry. I wiped it down with alcohol and covered it in a plastic sandwich baggie because there is NEVER a “probe cover” when you need one. And really, doesn’t the fact that they’re called “probe covers” just make you think of aliens and spaceships and being abducted in your sleep? No? Just me then? Alright. Cool.)
Yes. I’m serious.
I AM SICK.
Like, legitimately, need my Mama to come make me some potato soup sick.
Dan, thankfully, because he is wonderful, brought me a can of Campbell’s Chunky potato soup, which is not my Mama’s but is pretty darn good. He also went out and got me ice cream (Chocolate Trinity from Publix. You must try it. Your soul will thank me.) And then he did the dishes. I love him.
I took some more of the Advil he bought me (generic really is as good as the regular stuff and less likely to be affected by recalls) and now my fever is broken for the moment and I am a giant ball of sweat. This is like the sweating I had when I was on progesterone supplements for the entire first trimester. Knee-pit sweat, y’all. KNEE. PIT. SWEAT.
Here’s the thing.
I cannot miss work tomorrow. There’s just no way. I JUST started reading The Crucible with my juniors and there is nothing that I can just randomly throw at them to do for a day.
I hate busywork. They hate busywork. They will hate me if I give them busywork because I also apparently made them sweat to death today.
And let’s not even get me started on how there’s nothing to give my freshmen right now. And I have GOT to get them to the library for orientation tomorrow since I flaked on Wednesday and completely forgot that it was picture day and I couldn’t take them.
There’s no way for me to stay home. And that sucks.
Tomorrow is also the home opener for football. I can’t let all of the girls’ hard work up until this point go unwatched by me on their debut. Tomorrow night is the night it all comes together.
The rookies have their first performance. They will “get it” tomorrow night. The vets will find a renewed sense of love for what they do.
I. Cannot. Miss. That.
Again, I’m torn. It’s kind of my theme for the week here, no?
I’m going to sleep. I hope tomorrow’s better.