Paying Homage to Sir Alexander Fleming

So, this week I have been sick. I used to enjoy being sick (well as much as you can considering you're well....sick!), I liked the self indulgence, the perfect justification for endless napping and the brain numbing daytime TV. Being sick as a parent has no benefits. You don't get the naps, you don't get the TV.....you don't even really get to feel sorry for yourself. All the joy is taken out of the sickness and you're just left with suffering. Where is the fun in that? To make matters even worse I got sick on Easter Monday and promptly lost my appetite and spent the next few days looking longingly at our stash of Easter Eggs.

By Tuesday I knew it was more than a sore throat but Rob had taken the day off work so I could go shopping with my friend Dawn and have lunch (without it going cold or having to share it with two other small people!) no germs were gonna stop me from having my ME day. After all I don't get to call in sick when I am sick and have to carry on regardless, so if I can handle two toddlers whilst ill shopping and eating would be a breeze in comparison. On returning with toys and clothes for the kids and a notebook for myself (I know, I totally know how to spoil myself!) I sat down and complete exhaustion kicked in. By now my sore throat felt like swallowing razor blades, I was nearly tempted to call out for an epidural from the throat down it was that unbearable. Plus my ears were beginning to ache and dizziness was kicking in.

To make this an even more perfect time to get sick Rob was leaving the next day for Scotland overnight and I had the kids all to myself for 36 hours. I called the Doctors surgery the nanosecond they opened to get myself an appointment for that day only to be told they had no appointments left (even though they opened at 8:15 which is precisely when I called and you can only book on the day by calling when they open) unless it was an emergency. What do you class as an emergency? After all if I had punctured my femoral artery I'd probably head straight to the hospital not wait for my Doctors surgery to open the next morning. Now, I had just had two poor nights of sleep (I even had to neglect my water intake in favour of Dr Pepper because it was excruciating to yawn all the time. BTW I can't begin to tell you how good Dr Pepper tasted after all that bland water), I was in considerable pain, my husband was about to leave me for work and I had to deal with grumpy and grumpier all by myself and the receptionist is asking me if its an emergency? So as I couldn't control my emotions at all I blurted all of that out to her. She may well have thought I was insane but it qualified me for an emergency appointment. It's just as well I hadn't punctured my femoral artery and waited for my doctors surgery to open for treatment because the earliest emergency appointment they could offer me was 3:10. That's quality health care isn't it? When you're considered an emergency but not urgent enough to be treated for seven whole hours!!

So I did what I could in the meantime.... I let Disney babysit my children! They thought it was the best day ever and I managed to rest more so than normal. (Thank you Walt Disney!)

On arrival for my emergency appointment my Doctor was running 30 minutes behind. This is because what should realistically take 3-5 minutes actually takes 10-15 minutes with my Doctor. She's totally lovely but she loves to chat. It doesn't normally bother me but I was in pain and the kids weren't behaving particularly angelically and I just didn't have the energy to persuade them otherwise. So after waiting for 7 and a half hours I finally got to see the Doctor. She confirmed that I had both a throat and an ear infection and proceeded to give me a lecture that your body will do stuff like this when you have two kids 16 months apart and tolerate sleeplessness for three whole years. It's your body's way of saying 'Lady give me more sleep!'

Sadly (yet gleefully) this wasn't the case at all. Both my boys are super sleepers. Thomas slept through 12-14 hours a night by 10 weeks (we were waking him in the night to feed him prior to that due to his low birth weight) and Eli was sleeping through the night 11-12 hours by 6 weeks. (Thank you Baby whisperer lady! May she Rest in Peace and get her reward in Heaven!) but the week prior to my getting sick had been tough with Eli developing nightmares which ceased only to be immediately replaced with Thomas randomly waking because he needs his water (which is right next to him), or it's too dark (so I open the door slightly ) or because I left the door open (which I did because it was too dark an hour ago, honestly there is just no pleasing a three year old!)so it had been a while since I'd had a satisfactory good night of slumber.

Anyhow, she prescribed me penicillin. Which I was so elated about I almost wanted to take it all in one go. She dutifully informed me that it would effect my contraceptive pill and so warned me to be doubly cautious. I told her I am not on the pill anymore (she looked at me, at the boys and back at me. Her look read 'Are you insane????' She's the doctor that referred us for fertility treatment but she is also the mother of two boys and feels strongly that two boys is sufficient for anybody) I went on to explain that I stopped taking it because I always forgot blah, blah and the blood supply slowly returned to her face. I probably should have forewarned her we do plan on attempting for number three at some point this year but I think I'll enjoy shocking her more at the time, I know her facial expression will be just priceless.

So a day later, I feel human again and Rob is home, the boys are in bed and Sir Alexander Fleming I salute you for your discovery of Penicillin.

Next on my list? Easter Eggs! Bring them on!