Sick Bee, Busy Bee, Hungry Bee

I've been MIA for a little over a week. My apologies.

Unfortunately a little over a week ago, I came down with a head cold. As the average person knows, staring at a computer screen for more than 30 seconds would make my eyes water. And my head was "fuzzy" so thinking wasn't much of an option either. Not to mention I got a little tired of wiping my sneeze off the screen. At the time I came down with the cold I had been working on a post with awards, as a couple bloggers had given me a couple. I'm still working on it, it looks like it'll be a long one. Must remember to put a disclaimer on it.

Moving on.

I'm better now, obviously, since I'm finally blogging again. It took me a whole day to get caught up on everyone's blogs, y'all post too much. I hadn't even logged into blogger for over a week. Even though I've felt better the last few days, I just didn't log it. Perhaps I just needed a mini-vacation.

I will have to do a post about this past Saturday at work. Just another one of "those" days. But it will have to wait until probably next week. The rest of my week is going to be busy. I have my regular days with the vet's - tomorrow, Thursday, and Saturday. I will have my regular ranch work. It's delivery week for the publication, so I'll be on the road with Papa D Thursday afternoon and all day Friday. My mom is coming into to town for a couple nights starting on Friday. I'll be house-sitting Wednesday night through Saturday morning for a neighbor of my grandparents. And Sunday begins my monthly drive to Redding for publication delivery and family visits.

Sheesh.

Oh well. Keeps me out of trouble, though, right?

Ahem. Right?

Anyhoo, just wanted y'all to know I'm still alive. Just busy. But I will commence my semi-regular posting once the craziness is over . . . . next week.

Until then, happy blogging!

OH!

Don't forget, if you'd like to sign up for the Postcard Campaign to start receiving postcards in October, send me an email at theramblingsofcharliebrown @ hotmail.com. If you don't send me an email, you don't get a postcard, and that makes a sad little mailbox. If you think I'm nutso and have no idea what I'm talking about, then just visit the Postcard Campaign page up top. It's fun, it's easy, and all it costs you is a few postcard stamps.

And now I'm hungry. Must go raid the pantry or fridge.

Forgive Me. And My Absent Ways.

I'm so neglectful.

Okay. Not really. It's more like I have too much to do and not enough time to do it in. Not to mention my cough set me back nearly a week. Do you know how tiring coughing is? Especially when it prevents sleep for at least two days??? I finally dragged my ass to the doctor to get my some cough syrup. With Codeine. My bestest buddy ever. Took all I had on Tuesday to not drink the entire bottle so I could some rest. I settled for the two teaspoons. Promptly knocking my ass out.

Anyway, while being sick, I was enraptured with books. My co-worker who is just as Pride & Prejudice obsesses as I am, has been loaning me books continuing the story. I think I've mentioned them. Anyway, I had to finish the second one she gave me. I will probably need to buy them for myself as I had the hardest time putting them down. (I think I may require professional help . . . )

Therefore, because I was obsessed and sick, I have not read a single blog for nearly a week. I have so many to catch up on. Which probably won't be until Sunday night or Monday at the earliest. So, please forgive my sorry obsessive ass for not reading and commenting on all your blogs. I beg your forgiveness.  Not to mention I haven't really written in the way of blogs for the week, either.

Today was my last day at Homeward Bound. If you're a newer follower and don't know about Homeward Bound, I have a button to the left. After cleaning up after 40 dogs (at least), one of the volunteers had brought carrot cake, some bagels, and donuts. Jody, the owner, myself and other volunteers enjoyed some food (after washing our hands thoroughly!!) and took a break from working. Several hugs were given, and I held back the tears. I nearly cried as I drove away, looking back on the property as I drove away.

Tonight is my last night at work. My co-workers are having a potluck for me. And tomorrow is my last day at Saddle Pals (also a button to the left, if you haven't read previous blogs about them). I have too many lasts coming at me!

So please, forgive me for my being absent for a few more days. Once this weekend is over, I shall have a few more spare minutes to catch up on blogs and commenting. I shall return, I swear!

By the way . . . have I mentioned this yet:

I have one more night of work left!!!!! Please picture the biggest, goofiest grin a person can have on their face.

Literally.

MLW: A Story of A Sick Kid and Her Rockstar Mom

Considering I'm sick, and I just finished sneezing about a dozen times in succession and my marbles are really knocking around upstairs, it's only right that I share a sick story with you. And how I have the bestest mom ever.

 

About three years ago, I came down with a pretty good case of the flu. I hadn't had the flu in years. In fact, I kept trying to tell my mom that it was just a bad head cold. She nearly had to beat it into me that I did,  in fact, have the flu. This was well after the Avian flu and the well before the Swine flu. So, it was just the flu.

I talked to my mom nearly every day, and each day I only got worse. I coughed so much that I literally lost my voice. I couldn't sleep. Due to the damn coughing. I wound up being out of work for a full week. I actually had to get a doctor's note as I had used up my three days in a row of calling in sick.

 

By the second day of no sleep, I had a literal breakdown. I cried and cried, wanting only sleep. I couldn't, simply because I couldn't stop coughing long enough to actually fall asleep. My cat would curl up on my lap, and I would lay either on the couch or in bed trying so desperately hard to sleep. My mom kept asking if I needed her to come down to Sacramento, and I kept telling her I'd be okay. Truth was, the flu had quite literally knocked me on my ass.

 

Finally, I dragged my ass to the doctor. Although I waited long enough. The morning I went was a Monday, and my fever finally broke. I actually got physically ill just before I went to leave, and waited until I felt better. Once I knew my fever was done for, I went to the doctor for some good stuff. I'm talking Codeine here. Oh yeah. Now that is good stuff. I could hardly speak once I got there, but squeaked out that I couldn't sleep because of all the coughing. He prescribed cough syrup with Codeine in it and I nearly hugged him. Not to mention he gave me a note giving me until Thursday to be off work. Loved that man.

 

I took some once I got home and slept. I actually slept. It never felt so good. The next day my mom said she was coming down. She'd be so worried about me, it was the sickest I'd been since probably grammar school. Her co-workers who knew how sick I was told her to go see me if she felt like she should. I kept trying to tell her I'd be fine, especially since I had the Codeine now. I didn't want her driving 2.5 hours just come sit with me. But that day, she finally insisted. She'd be down the next day.

 

Because I'd been out of commission for pretty much a full week, my house was a freaking disaster area. The Hazmat folks should have been called.  I straightened what little I could, you know, mostly putting all the used Kleenex in the garbage and whatnot. I did manage to clean the cat's litter box, but after walking to the dumpster and back I was done. All energy I had was gone. Mom had told me she'd be down by 9am the next morning. I was looking forward to it.

Unfortunately, I didn't wake up the next morning when she started calling me from Woodland. She wanted to make sure I was up so I could open up the side gate to my complex. I never heard my phones ring. What did wake me up was nothing short of a heart attack. That cat heard the deadbolt unlock and jumped from the bed. As she jumped, I heard the door open. I sat up and saw my mom's reflection in the glass of a photo frame in my hallway. I hollered in my squeaky voice, "Mom?!" She said, "Yeah, honey, it's me." I simply plopped back down, just relieved to know it wasn't a burglar. She came to my bedside and put her hand on my forehead as only mother's do, and greeted her sick baby.

 

I got up a few minutes later, and I was instructed to not leave my couch all day. Well, I did once, but I had to show her where the laundry room was and put money on my laundry card. Otherwise, I followed her instructions. My mother did 5 loads of laundry, took out my trash, cleaned my apartment, and even ran to the store to get some basic supplies. She fixed me lunch and dinner before she headed out later in the evening. I know it made her feel better coming to help me, especially since I did need the help. I just hated having to admit it. Like I said, I hadn't been that sick in a very, very long time. And especially not since moving out.

 

My mother so totally rocks. She drove a total of 5 hours to take care of me. She knew how sick I'd been and how much help I needed.  She did so much work, and even though I finally felt human again, and offered to help, threatened to tie my ass down on my couch. And I know she'd do it again if needed. Why? Because my mom rocks.

Umm. Can I Call A Do-Over?

So I the worst beginning to my day (actually night) last night. First off, I woke up at 10:15. I'm supposed to be at work at 10:30. Yeah. Good job, JDay, good job. Smooth. I wasn't overly concerned as I'm the only one in my department the whole night until someone else came in at 6am to do the work I can't do.

 

But it didn't stop there. Oh no. It just had to get worse. I was standing in my closet picking out some shirt to wear, when I felt it. That bad feeling in your gut. The clamminess. The feeling that there really is nothing left in your skull except air. The feeling that you have no blood left in your face. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. The moments that make you say, "Oh porcelein goddess, here I come!"

 

That is how my night started. Unfortunately, it had been about 8 hours since I'd eaten, well, at least 6, so my stomach was pretty much empty. That made it even worse.

 

So I went to work (I know I'm a trouper glutton for punishment). I managed to eat some crackers on my way to work, and bought a 7Up. The bubbly made me feel a bit better. I finally felt hungry at lunch time (which is around 3am), and felt hungry after work. That's a good sign. Feeling hungry, wanting food, and only slightly fearful that you might be forced to enjoy it a second time.

 

I'm about ready for bed, as my body still hurts from my wake up call last night. I'm taking me some NyQuil to hopefully stop my runny nose. It was really weird; once my tummy felt better, my nose started attacking my face. I sneezed every 5 minutes. So now begins my dealings with the raw nose. Whoopee.

 

Anytime I have to pray to the porcelein goddess, it does make me wonder how someone could ever make themselves do that. On purpose. It's the worst thing in the world. It's the worst feeling. The worst taste. It's just simply the worst.

 

I'm just thankful that for the moment at least, my body feels relatively normal. Minus my stuffy head. Hopefully I won't have to do anymore involuntary praying for a very long time.

 

By the way, 2011 isn't starting out so great. I was sick on New Years. And now I've got whatever is going around work. WTF, mate? And now that it's the beginning of the year, I have no sick time because technically I haven't accrued it yet (not like I'll be there long enough to accrue anything now). 

 

I call do-over!