I got in a barre workout on Monday night, but Tuesday I woke up feeling like I got run over by a bus. My husband was out of town for work on Tuesday (day and night, and scheduled to be gone until Thursday), so I had to also take care of B while I felt like I was knocking at death's door. I've taken care of B while sick before, but this was a new level.
By Tuesday evening, my fever spiked up to 101.1 and I was in so much pain I thought my bones were going to shatter. I couldn't even stand up straight and had terrible chills. And I've never had a sore throat like that before. It felt like a million knives were stabbing me repeatedly and it was so swollen I could hardly breathe.
I was so sick and exhausted on Tuesday evening and B wasn't behaving at all, and I think the stress of this entire year - from the awful (abusive and hostile work situation in the first half of the year) to the slightly frivolous (D being out of town frequently, leaving me to work full time and parent full time plus dealing with all of my ongoing asthma and allergy problems and my terrible running/racing streak that just won't end) to the heartbreaking (Meadow Beagle's cancer) just came crashing down on me and I landed in a sobbing heap in the middle of the living room floor. At that point, B figured out that Mommy really wasn't feeling well. He walked over to me and kept repeating, "Mommy, it's okay." Which of course, made me cry even more.
I woke up in the middle of the night Tuesday night with my fever spiking even higher and thinking I should go to the ER because my throat was closing up. At that point, I didn't know what I had was strep throat. I just thought I had the flu or something. Somehow I fell back asleep until B woke up around 6:30.
By Wednesday morning, after my middle of the night panic with being unable to breathe, I decided to go to the doctor who determined it was strep ("yep, you've got lots of swelling and pus there" - gross! - plus the throat culture thinger). He also gave me antibiotics and stronger painkillers. And then I begged my husband to please come home and take care of B because not only was I sick, I was contagious and I didn't want him getting what I had. I can't even imagine dealing with a toddler who felt like I felt. Fortunately, D came home and I was able to get some rest, and B hasn't gotten sick (yet - hoping we're in the clear by now).
I spent the rest of the week on the couch subsisting on Gatorade - it's nasty syrupy consistency actually felt good on my throat - and toast, which I had to suck until it dissolved in order to swallow it without screaming. When I got tired of toast, the only other thing that sounded good was pho. Way better than that canned soup nonsense. Good thing there's a takeout place right down the street.