But now, I have a little crap cherry on top. My last 24 hours:
11:30 am: Manage to teach through an entire class despite a head full of phlegm and cramps. I drive home and do some work for Alex.
1:30 pm: Child Two comes home from her half-day of school. I’m feeling exhausted so I ask her to wake me at 3:00 so I can go pick up Child One’s school carpool on time.
2:30 pm: Phone call for me.
3:00 pm: Child Two and I do carpool then retrieve Child Three from a friend’s house. We shop for dinner fixings.
4:30 pm: We ge home and I collapse on the couch. I still feel exhausted and my legs feel like lead weights.
6:45 pm: I force myself to eat a bit despite my low-grade stomach ache.
7:30 pm: Parent-teacher interview with Child Three’s parents. He’s brilliant and advanced, but disruptive and disorganized. I was never disruptive.
8:00 pm: Back home, I climb onto the couch and watch the Habs beat the Bolts. I take two Tylenol nighttime cold pills.
10:30 pm: Go to bed.
4:15 am: I wake up with a migraine. Take a Dilaudid (2mg). I try to read, but give up. I wander around because lying down is too painful.
4:45 am: I take another Dilaudid because the first does nothing.
5:45 am: Still in pain, I take a third Dilaudid. I hop in the shower because it’s the only thing I can do standing up.
6:15 am: I go back to bed. The pain is bearable, not gone. It feels like a standard tension headache.
10:15 am: I wake up. I read the sports section of the paper before I again succumb to headache and exhaustion and go back to bed. I also fell nauseated.
11:30 am: The migraine’s back full strength. This pisses me off. At least when I took Percocet, those pills would kill the migraines. I became inured to the Percocet and asked my doctor for something stronger. These Dilaudid aren’t so effective. I take two more. I wonder if I’m going to make my 3 p.m. physio appointment. I haven’t done any of the exercise for about a week anyway – my first lapse of more than two days since I started. And because I went to sleep with wet hair, I make Einstein look like a jarhead.
Now: Excuse me, but I think I have to go throw up.
Bonus pun from six-year-old Child Three:
“Dad, Uranus is like Jupiter because it’s full of gas!”