Saturday I woke up feeling like, well, poo. I felt very sick, and I tried to convince myself all morning that my constant throwing up would magically stop in time for me to go to Brian and Atsukos for a late lunch, and then onto a friend of Nana’s house for dinner. I didn’t want to cancel on them (again), and I thought that getting out of the house would do me a world of good.
This mind over matter thing just doesn’t work well for me.
I must have been the WORST lunch guest ever. I spent the entire time trying to avoid moaning and mooing out loud, and instead tried weakly to make conversation from the closest chair to the guest bathroom. Man, I really embarrassed myself. I think I managed to eat about ten noodles, which is a pity, because Atsuko is an excellent cook.
I got home and called Doris, my Nana’s friend. I apologized profusely, but told her that I was just too sick to come to her house for dinner, and I was sorry that I couldn’t give her advance notice. She was noticeably pissed on the phone.
Crap. Pissing off nice old ladies is not my idea of fun.
Dim took the baby to his dad’s house for dinner, and I lay in bed moaning and mooing out loud. I had to give myself a pep talk to roll out of bed to get myself some water. It took about 30 minutes for me to actually convince myself to do it. I was pathetic.
I told Dim that I was thinking about going to the hospital to get fluids, even if I had only been sick for 12 hours, not the 24 that the doctor recommended. He said that I should wait the 24 hours, but I was MISERABLE. I was weak and dizzy and not able to do the whole subject-verb-object routine while speaking. I called the insurance company’s 24-hour advice nurse (I can’t get my doctor to answer phones on weekends) and she told me to get my ass to the ER, and don’t bother to wait the full 24 hours, since dehydration can lead to pre-term labor.
Dim came home and took me to the hospital. I went to the Maternity ward, since after 20 weeks gestation, the ER doesn’t want to deal with you, and I created an embarrassing mess in the waiting room restroom while waiting for a bed.
I like the Labor and Delivery ward. The beds are (a little) more comfortable, the nurses are all really nice, and Dim had a cot to sleep on while they pumped me full of fluid. After a few bags of fluid, I felt better, and they sent me home.
So, yeah. Hospitalized twice for uncontrollable vomiting with this pregnancy. I will remind him of this when he comes home with a C.
So that was Saturday. Sunday was much better. We took Bean to a pumpkin patch to pick out a pumpkin. Of course, we don’t have actual pumpkin patches in town, we have these mini-carnival things on street corners with bouncy houses and pony rides and hay bales and stuff like that. They charged admission – rides were extra. Admission? To shop for a pumpkin? Jerks.
Bean picked out a little pumpkin, kissed it on the top of the stem and carted it around as best she could. She walked up to ghost decorations and said “boo!” in a quiet little voice. I made Dim put back the pumpkin that he wanted when the carnie/owner/barker guy told us that he’s give it to us for $28 instead of $30. $28 for a pumpkin? They’re 25 cents a pound at the grocery store. No way, buddy. I didn’t have the heart, though, to tell Bean to put her new little friend back, so we paid for it and left.
Now Bean carts her little pumpkin around the house and pats it every now and again. She sets it in my desk chair and spins the chair around in circles, saying “Wheeee!”
And that? That only cost me the equivalent of a 32 pound pumpkin at Smith’s.