A Huge Crock Of Funk

Sorry for the stream of consciousness today, but I can’t seem to shape my thoughts into something more coherent.

So my little brother is back in the hospital. AGAIN. He had his gallbladder removed more than a month ago and its been nothing but ER visits and overnight stays since then. (He’ll have gone through at least 6 procedures by the end of the month.) He has a drain inserted into his body cavity to help drain bile and to keep it from pooling in his body cavity.

So on Friday, Kaiser decided to test and see if the stent they inserted is working, and they went all MacGuyver with it. The “test” is a rubber band. As in: “fold the tube and wrap a rubber band around it to force the bile to go through the stent. If it hurts, or if you get a fever, undo the rubber band and go to the hospital immediately.” That strikes me as odd. If the tube were meant to be closed off, wouldn’t it have a valve attached specifically for that purpose? So that it’s … oh, I don’t know … SANITARY?

Fast-forward to Sunday: My brother has severe pain in his abdomen, has a temperature of 102, and is now stuck in the hospital for 2 days while intravenous antibiotics work to kill his raging infection. Although Kaiser has no idea where that infection actually IS.

Kaiser can take its “Thrive” campaign and stick it where the sun don’t shine, with my compliments. 

I have been a bundled, mangled, emotional hormonal mess for about two weeks. Hubbs says I’ve been lethargic, easily hurt, and a pain to sleep with. And he’s right. It’s Monday, I got at 8 hours of sleep, and I’m exhausted. I slept on the BART ride into work this morning. Still exhausted. I can barely keep my eyes open.

Hubbs was walking on eggshells all weekend because he’d make some joke that I normally don’t take seriously, and I’d start tearing up. Then sob. For 20 minutes. Its like PMS on steroids. He even put “Pride and Prejudice” on TV last night — without me asking! — while channel surfing to try to appease me.  

Probably the main reason for this is the pregnancy hormones. I’m officially six months along and I’ve started the descent from the “reasonably comfortable” second trimester into the “oh my god, what the hell have I done?!” third trimester. Peanut has definitely gone/is going through a growth spurt, since I’ve taken to opening car doors into my stomach again. My feet are swollen, and my pudgesicles can barely fit into shoes, despite me putting them up frequently and drinking gallons of water.

Sleeping is becoming horrific. This is probably the worst part of pregnancy: You just can’t get freaking comfortable. My back constantly hurts, since I tweaked it while picking Sean up sometime in the first trimester. I hug a body pillow all night, with my belly supported and my feet raised. I kick blankets off because I’m too hot, then freeze and wake up to pull them back on. I have to pee all the time. If I need to roll over, the effort causes an uncontrollable grunt. Its not a pretty sight. And on top of it, I’ve been inexplicably stuffed up for the past two weeks, which at this point is kinda like adding insult to injury.

I’m probably scaring any newly-pregnant people and terrifying anyone without kids right now. Yeah. Sorry about that. 

I baked homemade zucchini bread last night and put two slices in my lunch bag for my breakfast this morning. Then I forgot to bring my lunch. Which also means I forgot my breakfast. Which means I started sobbing when I got to my desk at work and opened my big “cart everything” bag to find that my lunch was missing. So I ate dry cereal, since I’m too lazy to go downstairs to overpay for a jug of milk.

And although I remembered to put Sean’s laundry in the dryer before I left the house, I think I forgot to feed the cat. Which means she’ll be a crazy biz-natch when I get home.

And although I planned out meals for the week, I was so flustered/whacked out last night that I didn’t set up the crock pot for tonight’s dinner. Which means I cried for about 5 minutes an hour ago, when I realized that I had to think of something to make for dinner. But then I stopped crying, because we can have spaghetti and frozen meatballs. Huzzah!

I cleaned the kitchen yesterday. But then I baked bread. And made dinner. And now you can’t tell that I cleaned anything in there. Which is depressing beyond words. But at least I ran the dishwasher.

I put my mountain of laundry away last night. It took about an hour and at least 2 breaks for it to get done, but I did it. And then the Hubbs said something flippant about it, which is totally fair, and I burst into tears. And I don’t know why. What I DO know is that these freaky hormones had best cut it out soon or we’ll all be losing our shiz.

Happy Monday, all.


One comment on “A Huge Crock Of Funk

  1. Erin says:

    Poor Shell! 😦 Let it out. It wants to come out.

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