Jen is going to revoke my friend status, I think. She’s in labor right now, at the hospital, and I’m not there.
No, I’m at home with a stuffed head and a sore throat. She texted me this morning to say she was at the hospital, and I texted her back that I was sick and thought maybe I shouldn’t attend the delivery. She agreed, of course – germs and brand new babies don’t mix!
Still, I feel guilty as all hell about it. We’ve been planning on me attending this delivery for YEARS – right after her first son was born, who is three now. She kept joking that I wasn’t allowed to move back to Maine until her second child was born so I could be there.
And where am I, instead of at the hospital, camera in hand? In my jammies. In bed.
She and her husband already think I’m a flake, because I’ve had to bow out of our plans a couple of times in the past for unforseen circumstances. This one, though? This is ONE BIG MISS. I’m wracked with guilt.
GAH. This sucks.
In other news, I am no longer afraid of my Neti Pot.
I started feeling way crummy yesterday afternoon – what I thought was allergies turned out to be a full-blown cold. Head stuffed, the beginnings of a sore throat… so I stopped at the store on the way home from work and stocked up on sickypoo gear. Advil, cold medicine, nasal spray, lozenges, Gatorade, rye bread (for toast, my favorite sick food), tea, honey, and crackers.
Once home I got in my jammies and curled up on the couch with an afghan and a pillow. Calvin made breakfast skillet for dinner, and I had a couple of cups of tea. I was stuffed to high heaven, so Calvin suggested that I finally crack out the Neti Pot that I bought a couple of years ago. It has languished, unused, under the sink since then.
I mean, it’s kind of creepy, right? Pouring water up one side of your nose and having it run back out the other side, carrying snot and detritus and goodness knows what else?
At that point I was willing to try anything to un-stuff my head, so I cracked out the Neti Pot, read the directions, heated up some water and stirred in some kosher salt, then stood in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I practiced contorting and tilting my head for a moment, then just womaned-up and stuck the thing in my nose. I tilted the pot up and could feel the warm water in my nasal cavities. A moment later, a steady stream of… well, we’ll call it water… poured out of the opposite nostril and neatly into the sink. I un-tilted my head a bit too soon, and swallowed salt water. Still, not uncomfortable. I tilted my head the other way, repeated the process in the other nostril, and was again successful. Then I “blew vigorously” out of both nostrils to clear the passages of water.
I straightened up, and discovered that I really did feel better. Lookit me, being all brave and stuff!
I went to bed at about 8:30, ears crackling (GEEZ I hope I don’t come down with an ear infection), throat burning. I had the most MESSED UP DREAMS about being in high school, and being picked on by the other kids, and trying to fend for myself but being interrupted because MY TEETH KEPT BREAKING UP AND FALLING OUT. So I’d have to spit tooth shards into my hand before I could give my tormentor what-for.
Cold medicine is DA BOMB.