I’m having a rough week.
Actually, to refer to it as a “rough week” is doing my current circumstances a disservice. I have been having the Worst Week of 2008, to date.
On Tuesday, I succumbed to a rather nasty, virulent “stomach flu”. As no one else in the house had it and I was Ground Zero for the contagion, I figure I must have picked it up inadvertently that morning while buying meat at the butcher’s. My food poisoning hell kept me running up and downstairs for a day. I missed the soup fundraiser at the school the next evening — though I was informed that my 4yr old kindly announced to everyone that Mommy had a “big watery poop”. I would have been humiliated had I not already been dehydrated with abdominal pain.
My stomach issues were then topped off by a bathroom-dash-related injury. Mid-dash, I managed to slip on the bottom step of our stairs and land (with my full weight bearing down) upon my right big toe joint. Hurt like the blazes and had me cursing and crying all at once — even a bit of that hysterical giggling that often follows intense and unexpected pain. Within an hour it began to swell like a balloon.
It was clear I’d be unable to take the boys to school yesterday, so DH pitched in and got them breakfast and trucked them to where they were going. I passed most of the morning in a groggy, vertiginous haze. I awoke long enough to briefly check email, try on all my footwear and consider some of DH’s, and contact him to see if he could pick the boys up too as there were no shoes into which I could cram my balloon foot.
By evening, the worst of the stomach stuff seemed to have passed and I was looking forward to a good night’s rest. Alas, as things seem to always work this way, #2 had a nighttime accident (due to not using the bathroom before bed) and I ended up changing their bed sheets at 4:30am. I crawled into the twin bed with #2 to see what sleep I could still get (#1 was in the Big Bed with DH at this point). I didn’t get much.
When I finally got up at 7:30am, I figured that my week must be over. Today is a PD day so we didn’t have to go anywhere–I’d be able to flake on the couch and be groggy. Well, things between 6yr olds and 4yr olds don’t always run smoothly so I mostly knit off and on while trying to overcome my headache and get a bunch of dishes washed. Fortuitously, it looked as though the swelling in my foot was lessening. Mid-afternoon, I recalled I was going to call my bank about something.
And that’s when the real fun started.
The kids were loud, so I went upstairs to dial. There were some random socks on the stairs from when one of the kids was rebelling a Time Out — I made a note to pick them up when I was done my call. My bad luck, though, was the kids following me up the stairs with their noise and demands. I tried to rush back down the stairs so I’d be able to hear the lady on the phone, hit one of the socks, and..
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT ARSE CHRIST ASSHOLE!”
(And a few, more colourful words besides..)
The phone flew into the air and crashed on the bottom landing. I slide down six steps on my back, stopping only when my elbows simultaneously bore the brunt of the impact. My head whacked the step behind me, my neck twisted at a weird angle and made a strange cracking sound. Cue a bunch of those aforementioned hysterical giggles, punctuated by a tinny voice from the phone yelling, “Ma’am! Ma’am?! Are you okay??!”, as I picked myself up.
I finished my banking as quickly as possible. The customer service agent admonished me to be more careful before ending the call. My children informed me they had picked up all the socks and were really sorry.
And I’m left with an aching arse, a neck that feels like an unrolled Timmy’s rim , and two excruciating elbows — the worst of which is, of course, my right. I’m now experiencing shooting pains up into my dominant hand, making further knitting this weekend unlikely at best.
On second thought, after considering my post title, maybe this would be a prime time to leave the house..