I just spent one of the worst weekends of my life at home. I got sick early Saturday morning and am still not feeling 100%. As a former medical professional, I am not a very good patient. I used to dread taking care of any doctor or nurse that had to be hospitalized when I was still working because we are notorious for being horrible patients. We are not supposed to be the patient; we are supposed to be the one making everyone else feel better and when we can’t, Oh boy.
Throw in the fact that I already have fibromyalgia and then toss in a mix of stomach upset and headache…Oh my poor husband!! Luckily for him, I spent most of Saturday asleep on the couch. I think he tip-toed very quietly around so I wouldn’t wake up and start wanting things. I was just so sick to my stomach that any movement meant nausea and I hate being nauseated more than anything else on the planet. Sleep was my escape.
Sunday was a different story. I wasn’t as sick to my stomach, but my head ached and I still couldn’t think of a thing that sounded good to eat, so I stayed in bed all day and felt sorry for myself. Luckily for him, I stayed upstairs in bed this time and he had the run of the house downstairs. I had slept so much on Saturday I couldn’t sleep much, so I watched stupid movies on TV and texted my husband. Yep, that’s how I get his attention now. I text him. No hollering down the stairs for some soup, I just send him a text. I am sure he is happy about that little change in technology. At least the neighbors can’t hear me anymore.
He finally came up to bed about 7:00 to watch True Blood with me and with him there, I was able to fall asleep sometime during the evening. I awoke this morning to a pounding headache and a stomach that is still quite unhappy, but at least my hubby has escaped. He went off to work looking very relieved for some reason. Oh well, I can always text him if I need something.
Dang stomach bug, anyway.