I love my neighbors… even if it seemed like they were trying to kill me yesterday. Here’s the story I was too tired to finish yesterday (cue fog rolling in and flashback music)…
I had gone in last weekend to see my dad and check on his progress from his knee replacement surgery. I took my bro, Dahood, and of course, we spent some of the time there visiting my mom, other brother Chris, and his son Gabriel (aka “Sickboy”).
All was well, and as long as we can keep my dad moving his knee to keep it loosened up (yeah, I know it hurts), he should make a full recovery and be better than ever.
Dahood and I made it back to DC no problem on Monday night, so that we could both make it into work the next day. We got up on Tuesday morning, and Dave was bustling around getting ready, but I felt like I had been beat with sticks. And I know something about that…
Anyway, he takes off, and I finally get up and trudge my stuff to the truck. I was seriously contemplating just zipping by work (I had preemptively taken it off anyway, just in case) and heading to home… and as I got closer, and I felt more and more tired, that’s what I did.
I made it back home with no problems, either, and slogged up to my bed. Didn’t even take my stuff out of the truck. Just hit the bed.
And got up two hours later feeling pain over my heart. I was a little worried… but it wasn’t really my heart, it was more like my solar plexus or xyphoid process. In any case, it hurt to touch, and just felt weird. And then the projectile vomiting came…
I did that for a few minutes. But once out my system, I haven’t done it since. However, there I am, suuper tired and hurting all over… trying to get some sleep, but not really being able. Just staggering, weak as kittens, to get from place to place in my house. Man, what a day. Started having a bit of stuff coming out the other end, too, though not constantly, thankfully. In addition, I had no stuffiness of the head or nose for once, which, all things considered, was wonderful.
I haven’t felt this bad since I had a broken tooth pulled two or three years ago. I don’t know what all was going on then, but they gave me something before the pulling, and I started getting the shakes and getting weak… then I went to the pharmacy and bought some sort of anti-inflammatory. When I took that stuff–man! Again, it felt like I had been worked over and had the shakes and fever and weakness. Just like yesterday.
At some point during the day I realized I hadn’t eaten anything yet, and could maybe use a glass of juice. James, my next door neighbor was off at work, of course, but I figured his wife Patricia (“Trish”) might could give me some. So I stagger over to the window, and her car was nowhere in sight. Drat!
So, after much musing and thinking about it, I lumbered upstairs to my kitchen, and slowly drafted a request on the back of an envelope. Gathering my strength, I slowly, painfully made the 15 foot oddessy to their front door, and wedged the envelope into the door frame. Whew! Task accomplished.
After an eternity, Trish got back and came over to my front door and rang. I got up from the downstairs futon and staggered over to the front door, and we discussed options for stuff she could bring over, as I leaned on the door frame, zoning in and out of alertness.
Such a dear, she kept going on and on about maybe she could fix some soup, and maybe a sandwich, and how was I… all I wanted was some juice, and maybe some Tylenol 3 with codeine, and then to fall over.
A compromise was decided upon. I trudged back to my blessed place of rest. Again, the ringing of the doorbell, and Trish had brought over a whole jug of OJ (with the pulp, yum!), and pudding, and some acetaminophen gelcaps. Well, that would have to do. Many thanks.
Soon after, the bell was rung, the door was thumped, and I belly-crawled and levered my way to a standing position to finally make it to the door. It was Tommy, from two doors down, with his shirt up over his mouth and nose 🙂 , and another jug of juice. After some conversation about something, he goes back, and I settle onto the futon. Feeling a little better because of the juice and gelcaps.
Again with the ringing… and it was Trish again, this time with a sandwich and a banana, and a huge, and I mean huge, soup bowl of tea. Like the opening scene in So I Married An Axe Murderer, where Mike Myers says, “Pardon me, Miss, but I ordered a large…” It had it’s own weather system… I think I actually saw two navies in an engagement down in it…
Anyway, she said that this will make me feel better, guaranteed. It kinda looked like kava, so I was intrigued, though I prefer to see my drinks made before I drink them. But what the hey. So, owing to many years of martial arts training, I was able to take the massive bowl from her and hold it up while she was talking for a bit (I didn’t use the strength of muscle, but “bone strength” as the kung fu practitioners would say).
Right about that time, James came home, and checked on me, as I was leaning against the doorjamb, waiting to fall over, just wishing people would just leave me to die in peace. I did, however, leave the door unlocked all night in case I had to call 911 or my neighbors; I didn’t want the paramedics to have to knock down the door.
Finally, everybody went back, and I had some more juice and corn chips and tea and gelcaps. After a while, I felt less like dying, but still really bad. But less bad…
As the night wore on I got more sleep, but had to visit the bathroom more often, up until like 0700 this morning. After that, I was able to sleep peacefully for a few hours no problem. Ahhhh…
Today, I feel pretty good, though I haven’t eaten much, but the sandwich and some more corn chips and the juice Patricia brought over. The only thing that hurts right now is the muscles of my abdomen. Weird. Feels like the day after a really wicked workout. I’m just happy that there was no lung or sinus stuff going on!! Yay!!
And I am really thankful for caring neighbors, even if it felt like they were trying to kill me with their kindnesses. Thanks guys!!