Yesterday I finally went to the doctor for myself for the constant sickness I’ve been dealing with. In the last few days things had intensified quickly and I was having some scary symptoms-shortness of breath after short walks, dizziness almost constantly, and a near inability to make it up my stairs. All plus a really nasty cough had me concerned.
He listened to my lungs, you know, like a doctor does, and immediately said it sounded like my right lung was “impaired” and not operating at full strength. My pulse rate was high. I had a low grade fever. And alarmingly, before I left for the appointment, I had coughed up some grossness with more blood in it than I feel comfortable with.
I was slapped with the diagnosis of acute bronchitis with decreased lung function. He prescribed me steroids, an inhaler, antibiotics, and a reluctant psuedoephedrine with instructions to only take if I get desperate, and only half a pill.
After this I had to go get Charlie from Chief’s work. He took her with him so I didn’t have to take her to a doctors office unnecessarily in the middle of cold and flu season. After I picked her up we started the drive to the pharmacy to get my meds. I was quickly declining. I was feeling warmer and warmer even with the a/c in the car on. I had a light sweat going, and just a general sense of weakness. The rest of the night with Charlie was a huge battle. I mean, she’s a toddler, so that’s hard enough, but preparing her dinner nearly had me laying on the floor gasping for air-and it wasn’t exactly a gourmet meal. I had to crawl up the stairs next to her because standing up and climbing them made me so dizzy. Nursing her was exhausting for some reason that I can’t describe, and I was so relieved when she finally asked to get in bed. The downside was that she asked to get in bed with a package of diaper wipes.
Of course, I couldn’t let her do that, so I had to take them away and sub in a board book. This was not acceptable and she threw the biggest tantrum. My normally perfect bedtime baby was choosing that day, the worst day, to make bedtime hard. I was so. tired. that I considered just letting her out of bed and letting her run around upstairs until she basically passed out, but that was opening a can of worms I didn’t think I was prepared to deal with, so the best thing I could do was lay on the floor next to her, hoarsely singing one of her favorite songs until she calmed down enough and I could leave the room.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more guilty than I have lately. Charlie is just being a toddler. This is normal behavior. Little disappointments are huge letdowns to toddlers. The tantrums have really been flowing lately. I’ve been frustrated with her and not doing a good job of hiding it. And last night in the grand scheme of things wasn’t that bad of a toddler day, but it felt awful because I was not up to the challenge of taking care of my child. That feels awful, and scary. Really scary.
Which brings me to this morning. I was awake from 12:45 am-6:30 am because Charlie woke up at 12:45 and I had to nurse her back to sleep. After that I could not stop coughing to save my life and ended up staying awake watching episodes of “This is Us” and building our revised budget on my macbook. When I woke up at 11:00 I felt, well, still not good. Rome wasn’t built in a day. I very reluctantly asked Chief if he thought he could miss work tonight to stay home and help me with Charlie. His answer was very simple:
No other words, no explanation, no excuses. I just looked him in the eye and thought I saw….annoyance? I don’t know, it’s hard to say honestly. I just pulled away from him and walked into the kitchen to take my steroids and get something to eat with them despite an extreme lack of appetite. Soon after he left for school. I cold shouldered the hell out of him because my feelings were hurt pretty big time. I am really trying to be self sufficient as best I can, but this is the sickest I’ve ever been, save the stomach flu. After he left I sent him the following text message:
You have really hurt my feelings and I feel like you should know that instead of me sitting here angry at you all day, waiting for you to figure it out. It’s fine if you can’t miss work, but you didn’t even consider it and acted like I was asking for a lot. I can barely breathe walking up the stairs and have painful coughing fits every five minutes when I’m awake. I don’t think asking you for help was out of line considering you’re my husband. I’m really upset with you. I feel like an imposition to you, and that’s not right.
He immediately texted back:
That’s true that’s why I am going to call [senior master sergeant’s name] to take the night off
There was then a little back and forth about how I didn’t want him to do it if it would be a problem, I just didn’t want to be made like I was asking for something that was out of line from him. He told me it wasn’t out of line and it wouldn’t be a problem.
Guys…this is a whole new level of maturity for us. Usually I would just stew to the point of rage for when he got home to which he would totally shut down and not say anything. It would then turn into a huge fight where I’m bringing up everything he does that hurts my feelings on a regular basis (gunnysacking-not cool I know) and he would sit there not knowing what to say. Like if I didn’t know these text messages were ours, I wouldn’t have believed it possible of us.
So on that level I’m proud and happy, but my mom guilt is alive and well that I can’t handle this on my own, that I’m having to ask for help, and just in general, that I feel like I’m not being the best mom I can be to my daughter in an emotional sense. Anyone else ever feel that way?