A Day in the Life of a Sick Mother

5:00 a.m. Awaken to raging thunderstorm. How are my kids sleeping through this? Thank God they are. Uh-oh...what's that feeling in the pit of my stomach? This isn't going to turn out well...
5:45 a.m. Thunderstorm is over. We are now under a tornado watch until eight o'clock tonight. Great. Back to sleep.
6:15 a.m. Ben is up. Time to feed. I mumble to Luke that I will call him through the baby monitor if I need something to throw up in.
6:45 a.m. Done feeding. Ben is asleep again. Stomach is still intact.
7:00 a.m. Patrick comes downstairs. He wants breakfast. Luke is in the shower, so I get up to grab a Pop Tart for him. Have to quickly clear dirty dishes out of sink in response to a massive wave of nausea. Wait. Nothing happens. Back to bed.
7:30 a.m. Luke departs for work, leaving me still in bed, feeling more and more toxic with every minute. Patrick is happily watching TV.
8:00 a.m. Haven't thrown up yet, but the toilet now needs a good scrubbing, if you know what I mean...
8:30 a.m. Back to bed. Patrick is still watching TV. We should be leaving for preschool right now. I am trying to figure out how to get myself out of bed, get him dressed and get him to school so I don't have to watch him this morning. Ben is still sleeping. I decide I will deal with these problems when Ben wakes up.
9:00 a.m. Katie calls and asks why I'm not participating in the blog-off. I have to get up to answer the phone, so I take a Zofran while I'm at it.
9:30 a.m. Patrick goes to throw away his Pop Tart wrapper, finds a banana that I tossed in the garbage the night before, and eats it. I cannot move a muscle to stop him. I give up on preschool and call Luke. He says he'll come home. Miracle of all miracles, Ben is still sleeping.
10:00 a.m. Luke arrives back home. My body now feels like it's been put through a torture chamber, run over by a tractor-trailer, then fed to lions. I turn on E! and let Luke take over.
4:00 p.m. Still watching E!...still in bed...still dying a slow death. Luke is losing his mind, I can tell. I tell him to take Patrick and go, I will be fine alone with the baby.
4:15 p.m. Realize that I will not be fine alone with the baby.
4:30 p.m. The two doses of Tylenol that I've taken today are doing nothing. The Zofran is doing nothing. I need the good stuff. I call my boss' hubby, who is my unofficial emergency physician. We talk a long time about what I can take, what I have taken, and how it will affect Ben. I hang up and immediately forget everything he said except that he's sending pills. I don't care what they are...I'm taking them.
5:00 p.m. Lisa calls. I beg her to come over and take Ben off my hands. She says she will come, even at the risk of getting sick. A true friend. She will stop and pick up the meds on the way.
5:45 p.m. Where is Lisa? I am worried that she has gotten into an accident. I'm also worried for myself--I need those drugs! I want to cry, but I'm afraid the tears will hurt.
6:00 p.m. Lisa shows up--hooray! I learn that my chatty boss, with no regard for my health whatsoever, has held her up. I devour the drugs and lie in bed waiting for them to take effect. Lisa takes Ben, who has been sitting in a dirty diaper for the better part of an hour, and changes him.
7:30 p.m. Ben is very tired. Daylight Savings Time is still messing with him. Lisa helps me get him ready for bed and then leaves.
7:45 p.m. Feed Ben and put him to bed. Once again, back to bed for me.
8:00 p.m. Vaguely remember Luke and Patrick coming home. Patrick says goodnight and they go upstairs. I finally pass out at this point, as I do not remember Luke coming back down.
2:00 a.m. Wake up. Feel so much better, thank God. But wait, what's that feeling in the pit of my stomach? This time it's dread. What if my kids get this? I pray to God to take my life before He lets that happen and fall back into a deep sleep...