Friday, February 15, 2008

New sudafed sucks

Yep, still sick. David is now sick too and I am worse. After a brief interlude yesterday where I thought I had turned a corner I was right back where I started by 3am this morning. Doctor thinks I must have a bacterial infection now, so I'm on antibiotics (and you know how I feel about that!)

After analazying it with MM Elaine, I also decided to use some "new" sudafed last night in addition to the mucinex I was already taking. We strategized and I had a good plan to offset the damage that I know sudafed might do in temporarily reducing my milk supply. Sudafed is different than it used to be. "Old" sudafed was pseudophedrine and evidently a lot of drug dealers melted it down and used it to manufacture crystal meth or speed or something. So now, old sudafed is really hard to find and new sudafed is phenylephrine, a different decongestant medication. New sudafed did do a lot of things - gave me the jitters, kept me awake until 1am, gave me a really, really bad dream when I finally fell asleep, but it did not decongest A DAMN THING! Old sudafed was awesome - I'd get the tiniest little high and drift gently off to sleep and wake up feeling so much better. Damn drug dealers have to ruin everything. I've never even done drugs, really and truly. I had high hopes in high school and college of having a political career and I didn't want to damage my chances by doing drugs (this was before the "I didn't inhale" line of one of our fearless leaders). But now I'm thinking about ways to "score" some of that old sudafed. (Is that what the young, drug using people are saying these days? score?)

I called in reinforcements today with a lot of crying: called the doctor's office crying and I got antibiotics and an inhaler to help with lung pain; called sister Susan crying and she came and got Esther for a spend the night party; neighbor Dottie called me when she saw me outside with my mask on (who said I was a drama queen?) and so I cried to her and got homemade chicken noodle soup, flowers, and she took Ruthie to her house for 20 minutes so we could Lysol bomb the inside of the house; and I called neighbor Jeanne (no crying) and she went to Rite Aid and picked up my prescription. I was about a hot second away from sending an APB to the Milk Moms but after I ate some soup I felt much better. Now my biggest problem is that Esther has one clean pair of "big girl panties" left for tomorrow so some laundry must be done at some point.

Ruthie and Esther both seem okay - and that was what brought the crying on. The thought that they might get this sick is just too much for me to handle. And even as I write that I know that some people deal with kids who are far, far more sick than a little flu. And then I just feel grateful. Grateful that we only have the flu, grateful that I have a kick-ass awesome sister* who came to help in spite of her own plans for the evening, grateful that my husband can pull it together to help out when he feels badly too, grateful that I took time to nurture relationships with my neighbors so I could call on them and even more grateful that they are happy to help.

You know what I'd really be grateful for? Some old sudafed.

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*I actually have another kick-ass awesome sister as well who lives in Texas. She's so kick-ass awesome that on a recent business trip she expressed breast milk on the airplane WHILE SITTING IN HER SEAT IN FIRST CLASS!!! (there was nobody sitting next to her). She has continued breastfeeding her daughter in spite of many, many business trips and is a pumping rock star.

2 comments:

Marya said...

Ellen, I am so sorry you are so sick! We do not have ANY plans this weekend so please let me know if there is anything I can do. I know Esther doesn't know us very well but I would be happy to take her to play with David if you think it would help. I also am a pretty good cook so let me know if you need ANYTHING.
-Marya

Elaine said...

Oh Ellen. I dropped you a note before reading this. That sucks that new Sudafed is no good. The whole point was that you would be knocked out for a few hours and recover - not be made worse! Sorry my fail-proof plan totally failed!

 
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