There are bad weeks, good weeks, bad days, good days, bad moments, good moments...and then there are the times that are so horrible, or so great, they have their very own imprint on us, and they may even change us.
This past week was one of those weeks that would have been nice, if is just could have been bad. Instead, it was horrible. Absolutely horrible.
The main reason, obviously, is that William was terribly sick. So sick in fact, that in a few different moments, I genuinely worried about him surviving this illness. The worry that the doctors conveyed to us did not help to ease my fears.
In my mind, the only thing worse than William being this sick, would be to have one of the younger, and less likely able to fight this illness, kids get the flu. Molly or Luke.
Molly woke in the middle of the night this week with a high fever. I was already camped out in the living room next to William, trying to fight his burning fever and trying to be there, and catch it, if he needed to go back to the ER, if the illness entered his blood stream...which has been proven to be fatal.
With Molly showing signs of the flu, coupled with my absolute exhaustion of no sleep and being worried to the point of some underlying panic attacks just below the surface, this pushed me to the breaking point.
|this is where Molly spent the day|
I called the doctor, who immediately put Molly on Tamiflu, and reassured me that since she had the flu shot, she most likely would not get as sick as William. That helped..a little.
On top of this, William HATED the Tamiflu. It would take as long as 50 minutes to get him to drink 10mL of the stuff. He had to drink it twice a day.
He would scream, cry, gag, spit, and beg us not to make him drink it.
It was a nightmare.
At one point, he informed that that is tasted like "dead chicken and dead cow."
Due to the stress and exhaustion, I could feel my heart begin pounding, and my breath getting short, and the panic begin to rise, several times throughout the day, and I knew I needed to have some me time, in order to try to prevent a panic attack.
The kids could not go to the kids club at the gym, so I had to work out at 5:00am one morning, and another day, I had to keep Mary home to watch William, so I could get to the gym for an hour. Of course, I did miss a day too. I was so exhausted, that in order to work out, and just make it through the day and night watching William, I was drinking serious amounts of zip fizz.
Added to all of this, the weather was terrible, and we were all trapped inside. In my current state, it did not help at all to have Luke climbing the walls and constantly begging for attention, in any form. He resorted to teasing Molly and destroying the house. There were several days where I can honestly say at least one child was crying or fighting every single minute of the day.
I also had piano lessons to teach, because we have a recital this week, (I had to teach them all at random times, due to rescheduling because of doctor appointments.) Mary's tumbling carpool fell through, which meant I was dragging kids with me, and cancelling other things, in order to get Mary where she needed to be. I also had to help with Sam's huge school project, a presidency meeting that literally went until midnight...not kidding, and the other household duties that were backing up into literal piles all around the house. Did I mention the doctor and hospital visits in between.
Ben had a big work week, and he sacrificed a lot to stay later a few mornings, and to come home earlier as well. He saved me.
Wednesday night, or morning, (it was all a blur to me) probably around 3:00am, I woke up in a complete panic. I had fallen asleep next to William. It had been a couple hours, and I had not checked on him! All I could think of was the doctors words that "sepsis can happen within minutes. If you don't catch it, they will just be gone."
I immediately checked on William. He was still hot, but at least he seemed the same, not worse, and he was sleeping.
As I laid back down, my heart began pounding, and my breath became really short. I just started crying and crying, and I could not stop. I knew I was breaking down, and I just let it happen. I prayed for a very long time for some help. I actually just begged and pleaded. I was completely cracking from stress and exhaustion. The week had just been too long.
Thursday morning, I got up at 5:00am and went to the gym. My friend, who was going to go with me, ended up sick and could not go.
I ended up crying because of this. Stupid, I know!
I was so desperate to just be with a friend, and I was pretty much a complete mess. We had the flu in our house, so it's not really like we had any visitors or outside help coming in. I was desperate for just be with someone, to share the load, talk to someone. It was a lonely week. Can you blame anyone though?? We freaking had the plague!
I went to the gym anyway.
For the first time in 8 weeks, I was able to run 5 miles, without much pain in my leg. I have only run 3 miles a couple times since my injury, so this was huge!
I knew it was a tender mercy. The Lord remembered me, and he knew what it would take to boost my spirits and help me feel some sort of joy and victory that week.
I came home with a new boost of energy and hope. The morning was still terrible. Fighting kids, sick kids, a mile long to-do list, panic rising in my chest, and so on.
But somewhere deep within me, I felt peace. I knew, for sure, that William was going to be fine. So was Molly. I just somehow knew it.
That morning...Williams 7 day fever finally broke. He also ate breakfast, and played outside a little. The Tamiflu also began helping Molly, as with Motrin, I was able to get her fever down. She was also up and playing around.
Without really thinking, once I got Mary and Sam off to school, I grabbed some sanitizer and started wiping down the kitchen. It felt so good to finally DO something to this stupid flu bug. I knew the sanitizer would kill any remnants left over in our house, and it felt so good to feel like I was killing it...attacking it....getting it back for all of the misery, worrying, and suffering it was causing.
Five hours later, every nook and cranny of our house was spotless and completely sanitized...twice. Yup, seriously...twice. Every door nob, piano key, toy, table, light switch, and railing. Every bathroom, bedroom, blanket, pillow, stuffed animal, pillow case, sheet, décor pillow, and item of clothing had been washed.
I scrubbed all of my frustration out. I scrubbed and cried, I scrubbed and smiled, I scrubbed and juggled kids, I just kept scrubbing. It was awesome!
A sweet friend of mine brought dinner over Thursday night. She had asked earlier in the week, and I told her we were fine. After all, I was not sick, and I was perfectly capable of making dinner. I am so glad she did not listen to me. I don't know what it was about it, but just the simple thing as not worrying about making dinner, went a REALLY long way that day. I was so grateful.
Thursday night, I slept in our bed. I did not sleep on the floor by William. I had slept on the floor by him every night that week, worrying and watching. Thursday night, I knew he would be ok, and I slept. I actually slept. It was wonderful.
Friday morning, William and Molly both seemed so much better. No fevers, more energy, appetite, and asking to play.
I was very relieved about this, but I was still struggling with the stress of it all. I definitely was fighting another panic attack.
The sun was finally out and the weather was warm. Luke was able to blast around outside and begin releasing all of his pent up energy.
The day wasn't exactly awesome, but it was at least not horrible.
I was so grateful.....and very relieved that our week from hell was hopefully looking up.