My view today, doing a bunch of video editing from bed (doctor’s orders, sighhh fiiine).
So yesterday was weird.
You know how whenever you read a story about a celebrity going to the hospital with “dehydration” you’re like “mmmmhmmmm, suuuuure, and how were those drugs”? Well, apparently ’tis a real thing. (Or at least sometimes ’tis.) Remember how I said I got all fevery on Sunday? Yesterday morning I started feeling the kind of bad that sort of seems like one should get oneself to the doctor, but the gastroenterologist I called (because my symptoms were starting to remind me of when I had an ulcer years ago) couldn’t see me until Thursday and told me to head over to the emergency room.
I feel RIDICULOUS going to emergency rooms. I’ve only done it a couple of times, and I always feel like apologizing to everyone I encounter (“I’m so sorry, this isn’t really an emergency, I’m honestly fine, probably go take care of that person with the broken leg over there”). But also: I’m historically terrible at prioritizing my own health, and I need to not be, especially since…you know, my kids need me functional and preferably sprightly, not rolling around on the ground in pain, which is essentially what I was doing by the time that I arrived at the hospital. They stuck me in a wheelchair, and said “Who’s driving you home?”
“Uh…me?”
“No you’re not.”
So, feeling extra-ridiculous, I called Kendrick and told him he had to come pick me up. Which turned out to be an extremely good idea, because what they did next was stick an IV in my arm and throw in a cocktail of rehydrating fluid (saline? not entirely sure, because three seconds after it was in my arm I was asleep) and medication, and WHOA not driving.
Anyway, it turned out that I had some kind of viral thing that caused severe stomach pain and left me crazy-dehydrated (sidenote: did you know that when you have kids in summer camp/preschool/daycare/etc you end up contracting all kinds of bizarre illnesses? I didn’t know that either, but hello I know it now), but I’m much better today. (Still seeing the specialist tomorrow, though, because it seems like a good idea).
I remember my friend telling me that one of her favorite vacations in recent memory was when she went into the hospital to deliver her second child via C-section. And while it may sound a little odd to call the days following a major surgery a “vacation,” it’s just a fact: sitting absolutely still in a reclining bed with no one asking you to do anything at all and people bringing you applesauce and water and getting to sleep whenever you feel sleepy is basically Parent Paradise. And, yup: once the whole crippling-pain thing was handled, it turned out to be one of the most relaxing mornings I’ve had in awhile, supplemented by an afternoon in bed being all loopy and sleepy and catching up on The Bachelorette: The Men Tell All (which, as an aside, this “oh no! a fully grown woman slept with someone she was dating! let’s all send her DEATH THREATS” makes me LIVID because you know that what goes on in the house when there’s a male Bachelor just gets all skimmed over because “tee her, boys will be boys,” UGH).
So. That was different. (Mostly the part where I slept for a total of 17 hours in a 24-hour period, woo.)
