Monday, September 08, 2008

Self Pity

Since self pity is about the only kind I get around here, allow me to indulge my sorry self.

I recently read that the progesterone in pregnancy causes feelings of breathlessness. In the third trimester, those feelings are compounded by the fact that the wee one is smooshing it's mama's lungs.

I figure since I'm on extra progesterone, I'm probably more breathless then the next pregnant woman. I'm certain it's not due to the fact that I was sadly out-of-shape before pregnancy. Nope, it's the progesterone.

So what has the power to make a breathless, pregnant woman even MORE miserable. A bad head cold.

I have no idea where I got it, but that person deserves to be tortured.

I thought my throat irritation yesterday was due to the bonfire we had in our fireplace Saturday night to destroy the documents the FBI is looking.........oops, the old financial documents we uncovered in the soon-to-be nursery (more on that in a minute).

With that as my assumption (and you know what they say about assuming), I went to Worlds of Fun yesterday (company picnic/party). We weren't there all that terribly long, but by the time I got home I knew I wasn't dealing with just throat irritation. By the time I missed almost an entire nights sleep (due to the inability to breathe), it was very clear that I was sick.


I just really hope that AM doesn't get it, since he was drinking from the same water bottle I was using :(.

Now I don't mean to be dramatic (who? me?), but can people die from a cold? I seriously cannot breathe. It's not that I'm wheezing or having some sort of asthma issue, it's that I literally cannot suck in enough oxygen. I'm not a mouth breather (no offense to those that are) and being forced to breathe through my mouth is nearly as distressing as the illness itself!

'Nuff bout that.

Saturday we decided to clean out the closet in the nursery. This was necessary since we plan to put baby clothes in there and the closet was home to a variety of things ranging from my crafting supplies to, as we discovered, unpacked boxes of financial documents from when we moved in (that was 10 years ago, in case anyone's keeping track).

That closet was a little like a time capsule. We found pictures that probably haven't seen the light of day since we moved in. Old health insurance statements. I even found my birth certificate and duplicate copy of our marriage license in an old purse (I wondered where those went).

The pictures were a little depressing. I'm sure my other girlfriends can relate: you don't like to be in pictures because of some perceived physical flaw. Then, ten (fifteen) years later, you wish you had a gazillion pictures of yourself because the chances of ever being that thin or, uh, perky again are slim to none.....without serious surgical intervention.

Yeah, I found some of those pictures of myself. MotH too. Did you know he used to have brown hair? And a full head of it??? It was even long on top and flopped over his eyes in an ever-becoming "skater" hairdo.

Is it any wonder he became my stud muffin?

We also found a stash of socks. I have no idea why they were in that closet, but I suspect that's where the gremlins that steal them from my dryer hide them.

Okay. I'm done. My illness drained brain just promptly ran out of things to type. G'bye.


Nurse Boy said...

So you want us to let the sick lady fondle our food before we eat it? No thank you, we would rather over pay for virus free food. Notice I did not say I would rather go hungry. Fat boys got his priorities.

Imperfect Mom said...

I'll grant you it's risky, but sometimes cheap food comes with inherent dangers.