Here’s a little snapshot of what life is like trying to take care of a young family while living with chronic pain. For those of you that don’t know I have chronic pain all over most of my body. The pain that is the hardest to cope with is the head and neck pain.
I have multiple head and neck pain issues and my pain can quickly escalate to unmanageable. Because of this I have a “rescue” which is what you would receive in an emergency room.
Getting through the holidays is difficult for everyone. Throw in some pain and things get dicey.
The holidays dropped me to rock bottom again.
My kids were sick and exhausted at the beginning of December. One of my kids has ongoing health issues which make her pretty delicate. A common cold will wipe her out for 6 weeks. It’s hard.
We all get sick with a cold. Delicate child gets a fever for 7 days. She’s eating and drinking fairly well but the coughing spasms are uncontrollable. We are up half the night for days. Doing her nebulizer, hit the Dr. and her asthma Dr. Basically it sucks.
Now the oldest gets a fever, luckily just a quick one. Somehow the rest of us are still ok with just colds.
Can the dogs get human viruses? I dunno, but coincidentally one of the dogs was sick for 2 days. At night we crate them and wow. Just wow. We had 2 nights of a diarrhea shit storm. Like hose the crate out in the driveway shit storm. Like the outer perimeter of the cage had piles of shit, sloppy shit. Shit literally dripping off the bars of the crate. OMG. The horror.
Husband took one for the team on that cleanup. He even had shit hands as it was dripping on him on the way to the driveway. Thanks for that clean up babe!!
Right as we are wrapping up school my youngest pukes, 4 steps in the door. Why does this happen to me? Surely it’s because I’m an asshole.
I so wanted our 2 weeks off. Our family desperately needed it. We are weary. We can’t take anymore. I can’t take anymore.
Thankfully the little one only had the one puke and barely showed a fever, low 99. I deserved this quick recovery.
The next day she seems fine and we head to the holiday party. Everything is fine and we Christmas festivity on.
Now I plan to host Christmas Eve at my house with 2 days notice. Yes, I clearly hate myself and I’m exhausted.
I decide I will cater this party. I have never catered a holiday party, so this was a first. With 2 days notice and us all being craptastic this December it’s my way of hitting the easy button.
My sister calls Christmas Eve morning, her son got the pukes last night. Projectile. I claim it’s probably from us and she still plans to come over.
So catering is supposed to show up at 1pm. It’s 1:20 and I comment how this place is always late. They were over an hour late last time I used them but they have good food.
It’s now 1:55 and they call me to tell me they need to sub some rolls and my order is ready for pickup. I tell the girl it was to be delivered at 1pm and she gets shitty with me.
Oh no you didn’t I’m thinking. I maintain my composure and tell her to deliver the goods and my guests are arriving in 5 minutes. She grumbles a bit. I hang up, call back and ask for the manager by name.
Manager advises the girl is wrong and the food will be on it’s way in a few. I’m totally fine with all of this.
Here’s the thing, it’s Christmas Eve, these people are working, preparing my food. I don’t have to do it so I am still thankful and don’t care that they are late.
Guests arrive, almost all of them.
I offer them all nothing and joke something will be available when the caterer shows up.
No one cares about late food.
I get a phone call, it’s the caterer. They never cooked my turkey.
WT ever loving F is going on.
I’m now declaring myself the Assholest of all Assholes. I have an out of body experience and witness myself on the phone in a state of moronic shock.
I’m sure I started the bubble guts with anxiety.
The Sous chef apologizes and offers something else in place. I accept AND I’m still not mad. In a bit of disbelief but STILL grateful I didn’t cook.
Now here’s the part where I tell you I had a raging migraine the whole day. This is basically the norm for me but it still sucks big time.
Hey you look nice today…thanks. I wore extra makeup to cover the fact I want to vomit on my shoes. *smile* Except I’m not really smiling. I’m sad. I’m sad I can’t enjoy anything, it’s really hard to when you’re in raging pain.
Everyone leaves, I velcro on my headache hat and start cleaning. I feel like I’m going to fall over and the nausea is horrendous.
We prepare for Christmas morning and I crawl to bed.
Christmas morning is lovely, kids are loving it. I spend most of the day cleaning up, opening toys, etc. I still feel like garbage.
It’s bedtime and I break. The pain has gotten unmanageable, I put myself to bed at 9pm and pray sleep will calm the pain. By 11pm I’m waking every 5 minutes. It’s agonizing. Pain so bad you can’t even lay down.
I drag myself to the bathroom and prepare my rescue. My rescue is not an auto injector I have to draw a vial and inject my thigh. I hate it. I never want to do it. I just need the pain to break.
I was in so much pain that halfway through the injection I could tell I was going to pass out. Pouring sweat, and my vision was going black. I threw the syringe and slumped over the toilet convinced I was gonna throw up.
I hate throwing up.
I have thrown up so much in my life I can’t stand it.
Things stay in and I crawl back to bed. I’m gonna wake up fine I tell myself.
Except I don’t. I wake up in slightly better shape. I’m an 8 in pain and I can’t get out of bed. I laid there waiting for anyone to check on me.
This is the thing about chronic pain. When you push it at all you break. Sitting down for an hour won’t even come close to fixing things.
I take my abortive which is the step before a rescue and force myself out of bed so my husband can leave.
When he returns I tell him we are just going to get out of town. I need to sit in a car for 3 hours. I need to not chase people for 3 hours. I need to hunker down where no one knows us.
I need to play board games and color with my kids. I need to do nothing and I can’t do nothing at home.
I’m sick as a dog. On top of the mess I am I have the head cold from hell. Mouth breathing everywhere I go.
So we get to the cottage and my husband declares he can’t move. His stomach hurts. He’s shaking. He probably has a fever. Or possibly a man cold. Pray for him, or me. I want to Benadryl myself but it’s not a great time for a Benadryl coma.
I busy myself with snacking the kids so they can get to bed, it’s late.
Husband goes to bed.
I get the oldest in bed and am working on feeding the other 2. Out of nowhere my youngest starts puking on our vintage shag carpet.
What the hell is happening. Will the level of my Assholeness ever stop??
This kid had the pukes like 5 days ago.
Am I an asshole?? Surely I must be an asshole because this stuff cannot happen to normal people.
Toddlers puking all over the bathroom, I’m scrubbing shag while mouth breathing.
Middle child is jumping on beds and it’s 10pm. Husband is whimpering in the background and here it is.
I loose my mind.
I cannot take anymore.
Get on bed, your sister is puking I scream between washing her up in the sink.
Toddler was up until midnight. Literally hell. Poor kid is all sorry momma as I assure her she’s gonna be okay and it’s not her fault.
Over the night I’m sure I woke up no less the 857 times. I was bed sweating with a stuffed and runny nose. How does that even happen??
I expect a shiny trophy declaring I am in fact the “Mother of the year” come 2019.