25 April 2011

The Best Laid Plans

I started preparing for Easter dinner on Thursday. I ironed my tablecloths, and chose my color theme (white and green for new life). I added a few eggs to the all-season tree. I set up my serving tables with my fun mismatched china, and stood my forks and knives in old coffee pots, for easy grabbing.

The Captain took Friday off from work. It was great to have the extra help, and we did all of our Saturday chores one day early. We had free time in the evening, so we went shopping together for our upcoming trips. Well, not exactly together. He dropped me off at the mall, and then he went to a new, giant hockey store that just opened. The Captain is traveling to Montreal next week to play in a hockey tournament while I am at the writer's conference. He needed a new stick, and I needed new shoes.

As I browsed, I noticed that my mild stomach pains from earlier in the day were growing stronger and more persistent. We left and went home so I could lie down. I went to bed early, and felt relatively fine the next morning. I got all my grocery shopping done, and continued with the Easter fun. The little boys and I dyed eggs. I had the older boys fill the plastic kind with treats for the egg hunt. I mopped the floor. My stomach pains returned, with a vengeance.

This morning I decided to go to the hospital. Although I've experienced these pains before (often, actually), I am usually better by day three of an attack. This time I was worse. I couldn't remain upright for any amount of time. The waves of pain had become constant. I realized I wasn't going to get any better on my own.

The Captain drove me, and stayed while we waited for the tests to commence, which was no small feat, because he was nursing a migraine. My in-laws called the family to cancel the festivities, and handled everyone at home, which included driving Two to a gig as the Easter Bunny. I got an ultrasound, and prepared for a CAT scan by drinking a quart of vile tasting liquid. That was the worst part of the whole day, until the dye injection. I'm a little bit of a wimp. All I kept thinking was, even if it's my gall bladder, they can't yank that sucker until next week, after my conference.

It's not my gall bladder, or anything else they can see. So, now I have to go to a specialist, and do different tests. The doctor was very kind, and gave me medication. I went home and laid on the couch. The Captain and the in-laws whipped up an alternative Easter dinner for our family unit, and we decided to save my pretty tables and the giant ham for mother's day. The Captain is still battling his migraine, and Boy Four now has stomach pain, similar to Five's from last week. When we fail, we like to do it spectacularly.

Pass me the Vicodin; I'm going back to sleep.

12 comments:

  1. All you poor babies! Now it's Five's turn to take care of you all, except that's just plain scary. :)

    May you be just fine and dandy for the writing conference! ARe you going to the NE one with Kate and Deborah? I wish I could go to any writing conference. Oh well, eventually I'll have actual money and stuff. And be writing again.

    I hope everyone recovers very quickly. Take care.

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  2. Sending lots of positive healing vibes your way! Hope you feel better, like NOW.

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  3. Pain sucks, especially when you don't know why it's happening. Sending lots of healing vibes in the direction of your home...sounds as though everyone could use a little dose just to be safe.
    Hope you feel better soon.

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  4. Oh shit, we so needed to be done with all of this by now. But hmmm,I am wondering if it is a food thing...
    Be Well Sweetie, all better and all well.
    Julie

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  5. Oh, darling! I hope that you are able to rest some and that the specialist is wise and swift in his/her diagnosis without lots of tests. My mom went through a looooot with that years ago and we saw three specialists, went through every -scopy test ever, and found out it was (get this!) an inflammation of cartilage between the ribs which can mimic either bad chest pains or killer stomach pains. And think of all those damn nasty tests for no results!

    Well, I'm sure that shit cheered you right up. You're welcome. Big love and hope you get a nap.

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  6. Hugs, Megan. Life is really good about reminding us that we are not in control. :( Hope everyone recovers and you can get to your conference and enjoy it. Xoxo

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  7. Thanks, everyone, for the kind wishes.

    @Skye: Yes, I am going to the New England Chapter conference, if Delia still lets me room with her. I may have to provide a doctor's note, or blood sample, to prove I'm not contagious.

    The RWA National conference will be held in San Antonio in 2014, or Atlanta in 2013 if you're feeling ambitious...just sayin'.

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  8. Still sending powerful sparkly FGBVs to you Megan that it all gets figured out RIGHT. NOW. But yes, you should probably bring a doctor's note, just in case. :)

    2014 is soo far away! But I love SA. Who knows where I'll be in 2013 even. I like it here and love the friends and business contacts I've made, but I don't feel settled yet.I think it's the water. The water was much cleaner in the NW. What a little thing, isn't it? I could end up wandering again, just not right now.

    I'm rambling. Take care. Health to you and everyone in your house.

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  9. Of course you can still room with me! Just...you know...Lysol. (Kidding. I have kids, you don't scare me.)

    I'm so sorry these stomach pains are kicking your family unit's collective ass. Let me know if you want me to cancel the cookies. In the meantime, get better!

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  10. Ugh. The pain is bad, but the not-knowing is possibly worst. At least, I normally feel that way. FGBVs.

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  11. Poor baby! I cannot believe that this is happening at all, let alone this particular week. Still, I know you will feel better by Thursday because no other possibility is acceptable. Take care of yourself and feel better soon.

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  12. Oh noes! Sending out prayers that it's nothing serious and not contagious (who cares about the family but THE CONFERENCE THE CONFERENCE), and that you feel well at the conference.

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