Lingering

Before Thanksgiving, I think I’m the guilty party of bringing home a cold. Emry caught it and for a few days, she was sniffling and not her usual active, happy self. Before we went to my parents, though, Emry and I seemed to have gotten rid of what we had although Ed came down with something he probably picked up at work. But it’s that time of year and we weren’t the only ones sick. For as my nephew Jay proclaimed to my mom when he spoke to her on the phone on their way to Indiana, “Grandma, I have bad germs!”

And, so, he proceeded to share them. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe his brother Curtis did. Or maybe my other nephew Benny did. Or it could have even been my brother Caleb who had to have a flu shot the weekend we arrived (he’s in the Marines) and was quite sick by Wednesday. (Typical. Still can’t figure out why people actually want a shot to make them sick.) Of course, I’m sure we shared what we had as well. After all, four kids playing with and chewing on the same toys? And we are trying to teach them to share…

So, Emry came down with round two. Then I did. This one has been far worse. My poor little girl wakes up with crusty stuff sealing her eyes shut and covering her face as she’s tried to wipe her nose in her sleep. She hasn’t been eating like her normal self, she wakes up at night and wants to be held and rocked (highly abnormal) and she simply doesn’t have the energy to run about all day long, toys trailing in her wake. She also has a cough. Now that I’m in the midst of it, I understand. I’ve glued a box of tissues to my side, everyone I talk to remarks that I sound congested, I sleep sitting up in order to breath and I can’t smell or taste anything – a problem I have NEVER had with a cold in all my nearly 37 years of life. It’s been miserable.

And worse…it lingers. I can get over a cold in a matter of days. The two colds Emry’s had previously lasted, at most, three days. But I’m not sure this one is ever going to end. Every day I wake up praying I don’t have to spend half the day attempting to surreptitiously wipe Emry’s face with a warm cloth so it’s finally clean by the time I head to work. Every day I hope I can stop carrying the tissue box around. Every day I hope Ed will stop hacking and we can both get some sleep. But how many days has it been since we got home from my parents? I’m beginning to loose faith that this will ever end…

And thus why I’m so far behind on everything else – like blogging. But maybe next week I’ll catch up. Maybe next week I’ll finish wrapping Christmas gifts. Maybe next week I’ll mop the kitchen floor. Maybe next week we’ll just feel better!