Like a firehose to my brain.

I *heart* my family doctor. He’s more of a friend (from church) with a medical degree and an office but still…he’s seen me since I was single and first in town. He was Ella’s birth attendant and was supposed to be Will’s but was on vacation. I went to him today because I’ve had a cough and sore throat for well over a month to varying degrees. It’s recently gotten worse and I suspected, correctly, that I have a sinus infection. He sent me home with antibiotics and a saline nasal wash kit. For those of you who have never tried it, Oh. My. Gahhh.

Bad genetics have determined that I have bad sinuses. It runs in my mother’s family even though my mother doesn’t have the bad sinuses, her sisters all do. I’ve been fighting this my entire adolescent and adult life to the tune of several a year. Kyle just assumed that I had been doing the nasal wash all along. Nope. Just heard of it today. I thought it was the nose mist thing but it’s a big bottle with a special tip on it (think peri cleansing bottle) and little packets of salt and baking soda. Squirt, squirt, up one nostril and out the other. Voila! I can breathe! My throat doesn’t feel like I swallowed broken glass!

This is an absurd thing to journal about but I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. Which should tell you a little bit about my life. Yawn. So it bears repeating that I can breathe! It did, at first, feel like a firehose to my brain but I think I had it tilted wrong (heh, heh that’s what he said).

The other reason why I love my doctor is that he asked about the it still working he says. And I burst into tears. Yeah (sob) it’s still working (sniff). I’m functional which is the point of it. I don’t sit around in my PJs, watching Dr. Phil and eating nutty bars. Okay, you got me on that one although I’ve progressed to frozen, fun size milky ways. Not only am I becoming a porker but I’ll probably bust my teeth too. But I do have 2 liitle girls to keep going, if not myself. It’s just when I slow down enough to think about all of this that I fall apart. Like really fall apart. Not so much as to lose the ability to function but enough to depart from the normalness of the day. I just don’t let myself slow down.

Today, other than the doctor visit, was baking. Ella played in the sink while I made 2 pumpkin pies and a batch of banana chocolate chip muffins. So, I bake. The pies went to Robyn’s for her husband’s birthday and the muffins are here, coated in buttercream to destroy any likeness to health food.

Tomorrow is K’s third birthday party. K is one of Ella’s “friends”. He’s a holy terror to his mother and anyone else in earshot. He and his sister both have esophogeal scarring from so many food intolerances/allergies/sensitivities and the poor kiddos just don’t feel good. So, K is not a very nice kid. Ella doesn’t play with him alot but enough so that they get into trouble. Ella has 2 or 3 friends like K who are bad enough influences that she routinely wets her pants upon returning home from a playdate with them or comes up with something new and foreign like hitting her sister. ChuckECHeese, here we come. K is sensitive to wheat and dairy but bring on the pizza!

As a final note to self: 1 adult and 2 children in a shower seems like good use of time and/or water. It is neither. Wet baby at 21 pounds is vastly different than wet newborn. Louder too. She was climing the tub like a lizzard in a tank trying to escape. I barely got my hair washed not to mention the neglect to my smelly parts. I’ll have to shower again in the morning. Alone. Amelia barely got wet. Ella asked for goggles (which I happened to know where they were packed) and was happy as a…clam? a….scuba diver? a….kid with goggles!


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