bad, bad, bad

It's 9:18a.m.  And I can already say, "I'm having a bad day."

I'm having a bad week actually.

Since I'm really feeling sorry for myself, I could say, "I'm having a bad few weeks."

Three weeks ago, I started having abdominal pain, which my doctor first diagnosed as a possible bladder infection, but probably just menstrual cramps.  I am the queen of menstrual cramps, so I knew something more was going on.  As the week went on, the pain persisted and eventually became worse.  I called my doctor to confirm the results of the test for bladder infection, certain they must have come back positive.  But no.  The tests showed no sign of infection.

So she sent me to the Outpatient Center at the hospital to have an internal ultrasound.  Yes ladies, cringe with me.  That most unpleasant experience revealed a cyst the size of a tennis ball sitting on my left ovary.  At that point, I was so relieved the pain was not in my head, I didn't really hear anything else my doctor told me.

I went to a friend's house that night, and she warned me of the elevated pain to come, as the cyst would eventually rupture.

Despite the pain I was already experiencing, I spent the following week in a constant state of dread.  When will it rupture?  How bad will it hurt?  Can I handle the pain? 

While the cyst made it's presence known in my lower abdomen, every day the pain manifested itself in a different way.  I had sharp pains shooting down my left leg.  My lower back hurt.   I felt lots of pressure in my side.

The worst of it came on Sunday evening, when the cyst did in fact rupture, creating a burning pain that I can only describe as "almost unbearable".  I tried to be strong as I saw the concern on the faces of my husband and children, but I could not hold back the tears.  This pain was intense, and it didn't just go away.  It lingered...  for hours...

I was up at 4:00a.m., unable to stand without passing out, clinging to the toilet, praying for relief.  I finally fell asleep, and spent most of the next day in bed.  In and out of reality, but constantly in pain.

Yesterday was better, physically.  The pain had dwindled to a feeling of soreness.  And that soreness continues today.

If this was all that I had been through in the last three weeks, I think I'd have a more positive attitude this morning.  But it's not...

In the midst of my own physical stress, my children came down with a virus that causes diarrhea.  Great.  First Bryson, for two days.  Then Camden, for two days.  But wait, that's not all.  Then Bryson again, for two days.  Then Camden again, for two days.

And as you know, when Mommy is sick, most of what Mommy does on a daily basis, does not get done.  My husband did make sure we had all our meals.  Thank you Keith, I love you!  And he started a load of laundry every now and then.  But let's face it, he's a man for whom housekeeping is not instinctual.  And he does have a job outside of the home.

Anyway...

When I woke up this morning, one thought was on my mind, "I've been cooped up in this house for days. I have GOT TO GET OUT!!!  I took a LONG hot shower, mentally planning out my day.  Breakfast at Rick's, story time at the library, pick up a few groceries, lunch with Michelle maybe, back home, homeschooling, housekeeping, housekeeping, housekeeping.  

So I get dressed, actually taking time to fix my hair.  I brush my teeth.  I walk out of the bedroom feeling so much better than I have in weeks...   to be greeted by a pale-faced little boy who tells me he has diarrhea again.

I want to cry.