Posts Tagged ‘swine flu’

Niiice.

November 14, 2009

Been away on Swine Flu Island. Am on my way back to the mainland now, but on a rickety raft that isn’t moving too fast.

I think my favourite tourist attraction is the ‘shit your pants without realising it and lay in your own poop soup for a few hours’ railroad company.

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Massive shout out to single parents, seriously.

November 11, 2009

I have a great baby voice. It is super enthusiastic, chirpy, suitably high pitched. Why, this morning I had both babies squirming in delight. What was I saying?

‘I’m gonna punch your big fat Nana right in her nose, yes I am, I’m gonna punch her!’ They thought this was hilarious.

What, you don’t say this sort of shit to your kids? From what I’ve found out about incubation periods (two days) and who you catch it from (you’re contagious if you feel like shit), we deffo caught our sicknesses from Big. Fat. Stupid. Nana. (Can you hear the cooing way in which I can say this? And how every sentence sounds like a question due to the lilt at the end? No, it’s not at alllll obnoxious, I assure you.)

Anyway.

It started on Monday night for the middle of the night feed. I woke up as TMD started Snort, and was merrily chatting away at her.  She suddenly thrust him at me and muttered, ‘I was terribly sick about a half hour ago. I can’t do this.’ She fell into an immediate and deep sleep. She was so frickin’ pale. She is still mega mega sick, took her first Tamiflu dose last night.

Compadre, with no questions asked, jumped onto a train from The City and came out here to The Country so he could go pick up her anti-virals. I just love him so much and feel so honored to know him, let alone have him be our children’s non-god godfather. They are lucky little pumpkins. Anyway.

I’ve been on solo twin care duty since about 3 am late Monday night. It is better and worse than you would think it is. Except that now little Coconut is coughing, coughing, coughing. She had some mega throw ups last night. Neither baby seems sick, per say (excepting the coughing and sneezing). Coconut isn’t quite her cheerful self, but then Snort has somehow morphed into The Most Cheerful Baby On The Planet. So maybe he stole some of her good humour? Can twins do that?

We didn’t get to bed till after midnight last night. It was a tricky evening, and probably because I was so worn out. I can normally count on TMD jumping right in once she’s home, and we’ve got it sorted that she always does middle of the night feeds unless they both need to be fed at the same time. I was so worried they would need that last night, because we’re keeping TMD away from the babies. (She is too weak to help feed them anyway.)  She slept on the couch, which appears to have broken her back.

It’s all a bit spooky because she never gets sick. And even if she is feeling a bit off colour, she refuses to admit it. She has transformed to someone who is sleeping hours at a time, alternates between being pale and quite flushed, and actually moans in pain when she is awake. Not nice. Still, she admits she feels like absolute hell this morning, but she doesn’t look as sick. She was also awake out here for about 40 minutes, which is a world record.

So, in conclusion, fuck you Nana. Fuck you real bad.

SHIT. Coconut coughing again – every time she does, large amounts of spit up accompany it.

‘Imma fuck  up your Nana, Imma fuck her up hardcore, yes I am, yes I am!’

 

Edit: Fuck. Snort just threw up massively bad. If there is a god of twin parents out there, a god of lone care givers, I hope they/it/he/she are on my side. I hope I can care for two throwing up three month olds. Today is their three month birthday, so perhaps the birthday god will also help us out. Oh, and the god of polka dot pajamas.

No one hurts you like family.

November 10, 2009

The online pandemic site has accessed TMD as having Swine Flu. She’s been assigned an anti-viral course, and we are waiting to see if Sil or Bil can go pick it up for us tonight. By other people’s standards she’s probably not too bad, but she never EVER gets sick.

She has been asleep the whole day. Held Snort once for about two minutes before she felt too weak to continue. Fuck, eh?

THANK YOU MIL FOR LETTING US COME TO YOUR HOUSE WHEN YOU WERE SICK.

The one where I reveal the depths of my craziness when pseudo medical people freak me the fuck out.

October 29, 2009

Tonight a woman told me I needed to call the national swine flu helpline in regards to Snort. My stomach clenched and I felt I was going to abruptly eject The Shit Of Fear all over the couch.

I’ve been sick this week. Headache, poopy times, tired. TMD is now sick as well, which is odd for her. Last night Snort threw up a few times. I hesitate to say it was vomit as who can really tell the difference between throwing up and a violent spit up? But there were three occasions where huge amounts of milk shot from his mouth across rooms.

Today they have both had very fucked up feeds, him more than her.

The thing is, we switched from the easy digest back to the normal milk yesterday. And they are also 11 weeks old, near growth spurt time. Both are feeding less than every three hours – which is fucking shocking after getting used to much longer stretches, I can tell you…like having newborns again – and not having as big of feeds as usual. But is this a bug, a growth spurt, new milk? Who knows.

Then Snort felt warm. Okay, quite warm. Hot?

We put one of those forehead strips on him. Said 37/38 degrees C. Our fucking nutso health visitor is always banging on about temps of 38 and how YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR IF YOU DON’T WANT YOUR BABY TO COMBUST. So I called the doctor.

And the fucking receptionist said to call this hotline. I was crying and shitting myself, even though I knew he did not have the Swine Flu. I thought, at most, he was just fighting the bug TMD and I have had. This phone number began with the recorded message, ‘Welcome to the national pandemic hotline.’

I handed TMD the phone and hightailed it to the toilet.

Now, bowels empty and head more clear, we are still waiting for the doctor to call. I refuse to talk to him/her. Because I am apparently just as crazy as that fucking health visitor. I told receptionist lady that I really didn’t think there was anything to worry about, and the tone of her voice was like, ‘Okay, then. Risk your child’s life.’

Twenty minutes after this whirlwind of hysteria, including me saying, ‘Fuck, I don’t think I can handle having children,’ Snort was lying on a blanket smiling away at the Taggie I was dangling over him. Ten minutes after that, I was reading him and Coconut a story and realising this was all the most fucking ridiculous thing in the entire world.

It was scary, though.

I can’t imagine how scary it would be to actually feel that something was wrong with your child, as opposed to just freaking out because some crazy bitch was playing it safe. (I thank her, whilst calling her a crazy bitch.) I like to think I would storm the doctor’s office….anything to avoid the huge wait at A&E.

I think the thing is that these people trigger my worst fears. I may doubt my own instincts, because I am a bit of a worrier when it comes to their health (I got this from my mom, who is always fake diagnosing me with various diseases.). But when someone utters a phrase like ‘Swine Flu’, I start off on a train of crazy thinking.

What if this IS the start of the flu? God, should we have gone to the doctor yesterday? What symptoms am I watching out for? Google says mortality is highest in babies!!

Thankfully Google also said it had the symptoms of being flu like (well, yes), unresponsive, a rash, coughing, etc. Snort is about as alert as he’s ever been.

And he doesn’t feel hot anymore.

Our couch is littered with various thermometres, where TMD made us take the temp of every member of the household in two ways just to compare. She wasn’t doing it in the crazy way I would have, though: she was using it to prove the point that forehead strips are fucking stupid and inaccurate.

Anyway. If I believed in God I would be very, very thankful tonight that things appear to be just plain ordinary. The status quo is a happy place to be when it means you have two alert, playful, and calm babies on your hands.

Thank you to my twitterful twitty type friends who provided instant support and love. I needed it.