What Now

You've probably wondered where I've been, right? Well, even if you haven't, that's okay. I started out writing last weeks "Weekend Update" on Monday afternoon, but got interrupted by work (yuck). There wasn't a great deal to tell, to be honest, so here's the rundown:

Friday: Pretty much on my own, stayed in and did artsy-craftsy stuff.

Saturday: Spent all day getting ready for Steve's corporate party where we stayed for about 2 hours and didn't get up from the table except to eat and leave. Very Exciting. I didn't even get to see the transvestite this year! BOOOOOOOO!

Sunday: Church, lunch with family, and church again. After the evening service, we had a wedding reception for an older couple who reaffirmed their vows in front of the church after preaching. I served cake! I did ok, except that I have never served a wedding cake on a tier before. I used dental floss to cut the pieces, but didn't realize that the whole stability issue of the top tier of the cake depended on it's adherence to the cake as a whole and the top half kind of exploded and fell off of the support. : ) I had icing up my nose, in my hair, and all over me, including my shoes. Luckily, everyone who wanted cake, still got cake...so score!

Now, cake up my nose was not the only thing I got Sunday night. Sometime between serving cake and cleaning up, a small but powerful germ made its way into my body. I didn't know it, but apparently a very strong and horrible stomach bug was making the rounds and I had effectively gotten it. Monday, I was fine! No problem. I got some groceries, some prescriptions filled, and came home to make sausage balls. Steve and I watched the newest installment of TorchWood and we happily went to sleep. However, deep in the hours of Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling quite...odd. Still rather sleepy and not aware of what was going on, I got up and walked into another room. Suddenly, everything in my body decided to make a break for it! I got so sick, so fast, that I wasn't sure what had happened. All I knew for the next hour was that I was probably going to turn inside out if something didn't change. Begging for death wasn't even helping at that point!

Sorry for being so blatent about throwing up, but I'm going to be honest here. I wasn't expecting anything like what happened to me that night. I haven't been that sick since I was left on the MAT for 15 minutes. Steve, who was not feeling well himself albeit (and thank goodness) not with the same illness, was already having to stay out of work that Tuesday and he took it upon himself to make me go to the doctor. Had it been left up to me, I probably wouldn't have gone. However, I felt as if I didn't have any free will anymore, so I went. He stayed in the exam room with me while I kind of went in and out of conciousness. As long as I didn't move, I was alright, but then the doc started on these tests and I HAD to move. Not good. After taking about a pint of blood (and giving me a nasty in-bow bruise in the process) and some other stuff, they told me that I had a stomach and kidney infection! Woo-HOO! Just when I thought they were going to let me go home, the doctor offered to put me on an IV drip since I was also severly dehydrated from being sick so much. I declined, which turned out to be stupid, because all I wanted to do was go home. Just when I thought they were going to let me leave, they came in and gave me a shot in the rear...you know, to help with nausea. All that did was make me have to run out of the exam room and get sick again. I've never seen an entire staff of nurses look at me like they did when I came out. They kept patting me and telling me they were sorry I felt so bad. In retrospect, I probably looked like hell, so they were probably scared that I'd start speaking in Latin and spinning my head around or something. At any rate, I finally got to go home, and except for one more episode of calling Ralph, all I could do was sleep.

I had more to worry about than the state of my body, though. I had a final in history on Wednesday evening. I hadn't had a chance to study, I still felt like warmed over garbage, and the thought of doing anything more than lying peacefully in the lazy-boy made me sick. However, it was either take the test Wednesday or have it hanging over my head until January the 12th, when final make-ups were scheduled. Somehow the thought of throwing up in the history room wasn't as bad as the thought of worrying over that dumb class over Christmas, so I chose to take the test. I tried studying Wednesday morning, but I kept dozing off into my book. In fact, I had to take nap breaks just to be strong enough to turn the pages of my book. It was during one of my nap breaks that I woke suddenly to realized that I had let too much time pass and I had to leave RIGHT THEN to get to class on time. So, in a state of semi-conciousness, I drove to school and took my final. I have NO idea if I even answered the questions on the exam with answers that made any sense. In fact, I could have written a passage from Gone With the Wind on there and thought I was doing well. I kept wanting to doze off, and for all I know, I did fall asleep during my test, but I finally finished. Since Steve had e-mailed my prof to see what my options were about the test, she knew I was sick, so hopefully she will be kind when she grades it. I went home and fell asleep again. In fact, I fell asleep about three more times that day and still slept the whole night through. During all of this , I had been hallucinating about talking to people and doing stuff that I couldn't have possibly been doing. I know for a fact that I answered a question from Steve before I realized that he wasn't even home. I talked to ALL KINDS of people who weren't there, as a matter of fact. I also dreamed the entire third installment of the "Pirates of the Carribbean" trilogy. The acting was weak and the ending was kind of bland, but not too bad for a fever dream! : )

Thursday I was feeling better, but still really weak. I had to go back to the doctor and Steve went with me to get his second checkup after his Monday visit. We got to the clinic before 8:00 am, and waited until 5 till before we went to the door. I was so weak that I was leaning on him so that I wouldn't fall down. My eyes were closed and my hair was over my face. At some point, I heard another man start talking to Steve about how everyone had been sick, and Steve (in his best small-talk way) said "Yep, it's going around." Then the man said "So, does she go to Grissom?" {For those of you not in the know, that's a local hight school.} At that I looked up and laughed and said "Oh, no sir, I'm his wife!" and that man got so embarrassed! I don't know who was worse, the man who then exclaimed "OH! She just looks so young!" or Steve, who was mistaken for my dad! Heeheehee. Steve thought that man probably thinks he's some kind of pervert who married a teenager. Me, I'm not so insulted. : )

I went back home and slept some more, and this morning I decided to come in to work. I probably shouldn't have since I almost passed out once I got here, but I'm feeling more human now and can catch up on my work! : )

And how are you?