Aren't Weekends Fun?

Not always. Let me start by warning you, this could be long and I'll do my best to keep it to the point. First, Farrah wrapped up her little stomach flu on Thursday of last week and finished up with the "aftermath" of it last night. However, she decided to pass it on to her mommy and daddy just for shits and giggles. Or at least just for shits. I was lucky enough to only get the back end torture for an afternoon, followed by putting my face in a toilet dry heaving at 3 in the morning. Lovely. Thanks, sweetie. I had already been incredibly uncomfortable physically with the achiness of the flu all day Thursday and Friday. Now, I had "proof" that I wasn't 100%. Also, Friday night, out of the blue, BAM! a sore throat. What? Usually, when I get a sore throat, it is just a small tickle indicating that a nasty cold was on its way. Nope. This was no ordinary sore throat. This one ultimately kicked my tonsil's ass(es). Saturday, I was worthless. Mike and I sat on our couch surrounded by blankets, thermometers, aspirin, Advil, Tums, Pepto, and tons of ice water. But to no avail. Nothing wanted to work. My throat kept getting worse and worse and my glands kept swelling. We had to ask Alex to pick up diapers for Farrah and breakfast for the next morning (Father's Day) because neither of us was stepping foot outside. I couldn't eat ANYTHING. The only thing that felt good was ice cold water. Everything else, including saliva, felt like knives. It was awful. Well, I was up all night in pain. WTF?!! I had already not been getting any rest because Farrah was sick, now me?! Screw this! I woke up, threw on some sweats and tennis shoes and told Mike I was off to the ER. It was 6 in the morning, I knew nothing terribly exciting had probably happened yet, so I knew I'd get in right away. I did. As soon as the doctor saw me, I had to whisper (because I could hardly speak) that I thought it was probably Strep Throat. He took one look in my throat and immediately said, "Whoa. Sooo, do you want Vicodon or Percacet?" No joke. Skipped over the whole Hospital strength Ibuprofen or even Tylenol 3. He went right for the big stuff. It was not good. He knew I hadn't eaten in about 4 days, so he even gave me an anti-nausea pill so I wouldn't throw up the meds. So, once I got back from the hospital, we celebrated Father's Day while I was completely drugged up. Mike received a few wonderful cards, Cinnabons for breakfast, and some great (funny, I might add) t-shirts. He also earned some extra couch time for the whole day. Being sick = no fun.