Taking days off is highly unlike me. But Sunday night I was hit with something, which felt like it had a grip on my heart.  I walked and moaned and got up in the morning to go to school, showered and fell back down on the bed.  No school for me on Monday.  Bed all day.  So glad that my child is finally at the age where she is at school when I’m sick rather than just nursing from me in my delirium throughout the day.

Once when I was very sick and alone at home with her for days, we stayed on the couch nursing and sleeping and the Black Beauty Soundtrack was playing on repeat.  But now, I can’t even listen to Danny Elfman’s beautiful score without needing to throw up.  But Autumn has it programmed into her iPod and listens to it all the time while blissfulling looking out the window, so I guess there’s no permanent damage for that instance anyway.

Then Tuesday I woke up and as per usual, if I think I feel okay enough to walk around, I think “I’m fine.  I can do this!”  And I did.  I made it through the day, got home, got in bed and had the same scenario the next night- delirious, moaning and I’m sure a joy to live with during the peak pain hours of 2-6am.

Now it’s um, Wednesday I think and I’m feeling a bit better, sitting here typing anyway without being hunched over by the alien that has entered my blood stream and wrapped its tendrils around my heart, esophagus, stomach, gall bladder. So, if all goes well and the alien has found it’s way out my ear or nose, (hopefully not through my sternum although that’s what it’s sort of felt like)  I’ll be in tomorrow, ready to rumble.

Just go easy on me, sharing a body with an alien life force is draining, as almost all of us already know.

And I’m missing my sweet little (and big) peeps at the mother ship.