It's Only Words

H1N1 STRIKES

I border on being a shut-in.  I leave my house ONLY when I have to.  It is the price I pay for being a good girl and taking my anti-bi-polar drugs. 

Tuesday was my daughter's birthday so I took her baby girl birthday shopping for Mommy and we delivered said gift to Mommy's work.  Mommy is a Medical Assistant in a pediatrician's office.

While there, I touched doorknobs, chair arms, baby wipes container and read from the Reader's Digest in the lobby.  In fairness, we had also been to Walgreens for a card and photos and frame and to Family Dollar for gift wrap.  I went to a Wendy's for an Iced Tea and to a bakery to pick up a special cake Mommy wanted.

Almost immediately upon leaving the Ped's office, I started to cough.  The coughs were wet and painful to the throat and chest.  I was wheezing a bit.  I've been through this with allergies so chalked it up to something in the air. 

That night in bed, I was so hot I opened a window in the middle of the night.  By morning, I was full blown sick. Internally, I felt feverish, but wasn't hot to the touch.  I still had the baby so made arangements to take her to her other grandmother.  By the time I got home, I was in full blown fever mode.  Only 101.2, but when you have 101.2, there is nothing "only" about it. 

I hit the bed, which I never do in the daytime and promptly slept all day.  My daughter stopped by after work with an H1N1 test and confirmed what I didn't think could possibly be happening.  I have fallen victim to that dreaded strain of flu.

The doc had sent a script for Tamiflu just in case so I'm probably gonna live, but man, take care of yourselves out there.  Don't assume it's allergies or a fall cold, get checked.  And if you have a fever, you are still contagious until 24 hours after the last fever spike.  Keep that in mind and wash, wash, wash your hands.

This isn't the sickest I've ever been, but it is a lot of pain in torso, extremeties, eyes, nose, throat, lungs, the general yuckies.

Now I am off to disinfect my keyboard, again, and wash my hands, again.  Thanks to Mickey for hanging in there with me...but he looks skeeered, doesn't he?

Who Would You Most Like to Be Stuck in an Elevator With

Who would you most like to be stuck in an elevator with? Least like?

At first thought, I'd like to be stuck in an elevator with my daughter, Aja.  She lives with her fiance and their baby and works full-time.  I never have enough time with her.  I dream of a long conversation where she tells me about her inner life, her hopes and dreams for her family life.  I'd like to know how motherhood measures up to what her expectations were. 

At the ripe old age of 25, I'd like to know what her next move will be and how I can help. 

On the other hand, Aja is easily distracted and quick to get pissed off.  In reality, a time stuck in the elevator would likely be a flurry of expletives, furious phone calls and rapid-fire texts and of course, as her Mombly, it would all be my fault and nothing I say will help.

The person I would least like to be stuck in an elevator with is my daughter, Aja...see previous paragraph.

The No-No Table

Mixie Kaye, age 53 weeks, is my grandarling from my daughter, Aja, 25 today.  Aja's fiance and Mixie's Da-Da is Rod. I am blessed with Mixie's presence five days and generally two nights per week. 

As I amble through the day hitting a sink of dishes here and a load of laundry there, a lunch or a toy clean-up, I take frequent laptop breaks in my recliner.  On either side of said recliner there is a table.  The table on my right is between two recliners and houses all the remotes and the laptop which remains open due to a faulty hinge (crikey), and my trusty cuppa.  The table on the left typically holds a lamp and a digital picture frame and a narrow, shallow box that I keep a notepad, a pen, the USB cord for the camera and said camera in.  A box of tissues is almost always at the ready on that table as well.

Today I got an urge to organize the tables and entertainment center in the living room and to dust.  As I peered at the table to my left, it occurs to me that what used to be an end table, has become the "no-no table". 

In addition to the usual items on this small surface, already bordering on clutter, I spy a travel box if wipes.  Yesterday I busted Mixie gleefully pulling them out one by one and tossing them about, spittle mixed with laughter seething through her passy (pacifier).  "No-no", I tell her, and take the box from her placing it on the table.  Smiling at the memory, I put the wipes in the diaper bag where they belong.

Among the other 'no-no' items are a box of Smooth Away replacement pads (rip-off); a bag of Gerber treats for baby, like puppy treats,  but made with apples; an inhaler and a screwdriver (I know, I know) and a post-it note pad...and it is only Tuesday morning.

Part of me wants to just leave these things and see what all I can "no-no" her on by weeks end, but the loving grandmother in me knows the negative connotations associated with phrases such as "no-no". 

I make a silent vow to no-no myself regarding what I leave in reach of my little Grandarling and continue about my chore.  I need room on this table as tomorrow is another day with the Mixster.