I was just recovering from the latest conference I had worked and was working as quickly as possible to catch up on a couple of missed tests. The previous weekend had been scheduled to be a relaxing one, but due to my sister's car breaking down at my house, that didn't work out so well. I finally got all caught up this last week and was looking forward to a weekend with my sister and her family coming down to visit again in an attempt to have the relaxing weekend that didn't work out so well the first time around. Everything was in place for a great weekend.
Then, around 5am Friday morning my oldest got sick. She's been throwing up at least once a month for the last three months now. I can't explain it. But every 3rd or 4th week she has a night where she wakes up, runs for the bathroom, and starts calling for me in between heaves. This night was the same as all the others. I figured we'd keep her home from school just in case she got sick again in a few hours, but by evening she would be fine--just like last time. So when my sister called to confirm our plans, I told her my baby was sick, but to come on down anyway since whatever makes her sick all the time doesn't seem to ever be contagious.
Well, by dinner time, my poor girl was still not feeling well. She had refused to eat hardly anything all day, but did manage to keep down the water she was drinking for the most part. I figured after a good night's rest all would be well. I had class the next morning, but afterwards we were all going to hang out and watch movies and whatever else came to mind. . . (I'm sure you can guess where this is going. . .)
I managed to make it to class, and was able to grasp the concepts by the end despite being exhausted from getting up three times that night to help hold back the hair. My poor girl hardly left the bathroom all that day, wouldn't touch food at all, and only wanted water. Now, my oldest is already pretty skinny, and I think she just had a growth spurt on top of it. So two days of not eating and constantly throwing up was making me pretty nervous at this point. And now, she also had a fever. So I'm thinking, "Oh, great! I told my sister not to worry about her family getting sick because no one else in my house ever gets sick when my oldest does. But if she's running a fever, isn't that a sign of infection--either viral or bacterial? And if that's the case, I just exposed a bunch of people to whatever she has!"
Saturday night I found myself too exhausted to make the chicken and gnocchi soup I had been planning. Two hours was just way too much time and energy to devote to dinner. So I grabbed a frozen lasagna I keep on hand for nights such as these. After dinner, my sister popped in The Count of Monte Cristo, one of my favorite movies, and we attempted to have an enjoyable evening. We were mostly successful in the endeavor. The only down side was missing some of my favorite parts when my daughter started calling for me from the bathroom again.
Sunday was much the same as Saturday. By now, I'm getting really worried about my daughter losing weight. She doesn't have any extra weight on her--not at all. She never has. She was so pale and starting to look gaunt. I bought some Poweraid, which she drank and managed to keep down as well as she did with water. And she ate a piece of toast. So that was an improvement. But she still camped out in the bathroom feeling awful and unsure if she was going to be able to keep anything down. My sister and her family left for home before lunchtime, and soon after, my husband left for work and my girls went down for a nap. Luckily, this is where my little horror story ends.
My daughter hasn't thrown up since yesterday morning; though, I chose to keep her home one more day to be sure she was over it, and to give her and everyone else a chance to catch up on some much needed sleep. Her color is starting to come back, and her usual attitude is back too (for better or worse.) So now, other than making extra sure she eats all the healthy things she needs--and possibly starting her on a round of probiotics--things are back to normal. . . except my fingers.
Being so sleep deprived these last few days, all I've been able to focus on with any success has been my tatting. Though I was able to complete my stats homework and get full points, but to be honest, I have no idea what I put down and couldn't even tell you what the questions were. I tatted a little snowflake with what was supposed to be an angel in the middle. But as a friend pointed out, it just looks like a little cross. I haven't figured out how to give her a halo yet, which I think would solve the issue. It's just so tiny a space.
I also was able to add about 1/3 of another row to the table runner I'm making for my sister. Since she knows about it now, I can share pictures of it and all that. The concept is a bunch of vines all running together and weaving around each other. My sister has an ivy theme in her home decor, and (hopefully) this will fit right in. The runner 60 inches long and each row takes about 10 hours to tat. And with all the running to the bathroom anytime my baby called for me, 1/3 of a row was a bit of an accomplishment this weekend. However, my fingers are rather sore.
Even though I've worked up some callouses on each of my fingers where the thread rubs, I managed to tat so much that the thread has still left certain spots sore. I went down to the craft store today and bought a thin sheet of foam and some little velcro tabs that I glued on. The idea is for it all to protect my fingers, but we'll have to see how well they work. I haven't tried them out yet. But if it works, it'll be a cheap fix--and I'm good with saving a few dollars while still saving my fingers.
It's never dull in the Light house.
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