Well, that was humiliating.
Nov. 23rd, 2010 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaIronically, I was feeling vastly better for most of today. I've been going to work since Friday, but today I actually felt like I had a reasonable amount of energy rather than sitting at my desk exhausted. I felt normal. That lifted my spirits dramatically.
In the late afternoon I started to have a little shortness of breath, so I reached for my inhaler. I took a puff and started to cough. Then I coughed more and more. I realized that something was way wrong and jumped to my feet, but I only made it to the living room doorway before I started to throw up. Extensively. In front of Michael and both kids, who were desperate (Michael), loudly revolted (Alex), and freaked out (Colin).
Michael managed to get a trash can to me before it was too late to be of any use at all. He started a video to keep Colin out of the way and brought some rags, which I used to do an initial mopping-up. Then, while he mopped the floor, I went down to the basement laundry to take off all my clothes and start them and the rags washing in hot water.
At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. It was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wcg, come to dinner while the house still reeked and I was naked and filthy in the basement. He was very kind about the whole thing, but OMG this was not a situation which I wanted to subject company to. He awesomely stayed and kept the kids entertained while necessary things like showering and bleaching the trash can and rewashing stuff took place.
I didn't cough anymore. I just felt disgusting and humiliated and revolting and like an awful scourge to my family.
At bedtime Alex declared that she would like her father to put her to bed. And then she said calmly, "Mom, I have a little secret to share with you. I like Dad better than I like you."
Well. Thank you, honey. That was just what this evening fucking needed.
In the late afternoon I started to have a little shortness of breath, so I reached for my inhaler. I took a puff and started to cough. Then I coughed more and more. I realized that something was way wrong and jumped to my feet, but I only made it to the living room doorway before I started to throw up. Extensively. In front of Michael and both kids, who were desperate (Michael), loudly revolted (Alex), and freaked out (Colin).
Michael managed to get a trash can to me before it was too late to be of any use at all. He started a video to keep Colin out of the way and brought some rags, which I used to do an initial mopping-up. Then, while he mopped the floor, I went down to the basement laundry to take off all my clothes and start them and the rags washing in hot water.
At that precise moment, the doorbell rang. It was
wcg, come to dinner while the house still reeked and I was naked and filthy in the basement. He was very kind about the whole thing, but OMG this was not a situation which I wanted to subject company to. He awesomely stayed and kept the kids entertained while necessary things like showering and bleaching the trash can and rewashing stuff took place.I didn't cough anymore. I just felt disgusting and humiliated and revolting and like an awful scourge to my family.
At bedtime Alex declared that she would like her father to put her to bed. And then she said calmly, "Mom, I have a little secret to share with you. I like Dad better than I like you."
Well. Thank you, honey. That was just what this evening fucking needed.
no subject
Date: 2010-11-25 01:22 am (UTC)