This Saturday I went to a Stitch and Bitch at Ann’s house. Ann lives in Blue Diamond, a little town (I think it’s technically a village) outside of Vegas, and away from the tentacles of urban sprawl. This is what you see on the way out there:
So it was a lovely sunny drive, and fun gabbing with the ladies. And this little cat fell asleep on Shannon’s purse:
Sunday, I woke up feeling like hell. I was sick, which was normal, but I couldn’t stop being sick. I couldn’t keep down any food or liquid whatsoever. As the day progressed, I got weaker and weaker. By the end of the day I was so bad that I couldn’t spend more than a few minutes out of bed and I couldn’t pick up Bean. I couldn’t get a hold of the doctor, and I couldn’t get a hold of any other OB at her practice. The answering service said no one was on call that weekend. Shit. Monday morning, I was able to talk to their staff nurse, who told me to get my ass to the emergency room. Thirty minutes later, and with permission from my insurance company to try to save my own life, I hobbled into the E.R. I spent the whole day hooked up to IVs (Yeah! My favorite!) pumping me full of fluids and sugar. I felt hungry for the first time in two days, and devoured the tray of food the cafeteria sent me. Food, tray, plates , and all. Yum.
The doctor told me I was suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum (Oooh, it’s cool because it’s Latin) Hopefully, this was an isolated incident and not something that repeats itself. I don’t want to have to spend all day in the E.R. again. She gave me a prescription for anti-nausea medication – it’s the same stuff that they gave (big) Sophie when she was going through Chemo – but Dr. Internet tells me that, while it’s commonly prescribed to pregnant women, there haven’t been enough studies done to determine the risk of birth defects. I decided not to take the medication, even though the E.R. doctor and my O.B. both said it’s fine. I dunno. They handed out Thalidomide like skittles, and look what happened with that.
So I’m home now, and feeling okay. Not great, but okay. I managed to keep down breakfast, and that’s a start.