It could be worse.....But.....

Blah. None of this stuff is earth-shattering, really, especially in comparison to some others' trials, but all of it at once is kind of overwhelming. After the whole kidney stones thing with Brian was figured out, I was then diagnosed with fibromyalgia. It's not surprising at all; it explains all the random injuries and the pain I'm constantly in. Not excruciating pain by any means, but some days are worse than others, and it's pretty exhausting. I thought I'd feel better with a diagnosis, probably because I was hoping for some miracle cure that would make me feel better right now. There's not. They prescribed physical therapy, yoga, and getting more sleep. Makes sense, but I was really bummed when I left the rheumatologist's office because I was just so miserable.

Later last week, we found out that Ellie does, in fact, have an egg allergy. Like, "Please go pick up her shiny, new Epi Pen, Jr., because she might go into anaphylactic shock," allergic. We can't give her anything with eggs in it. Do you know what eggs are in? EVERYTHING. Seriously. The kid can't even eat pretzels. I can't order her a birthday cake, because, OMG, EGGS. SCARY. DANGEROUS. So I have to find a recipe and make something. I'll get to show off my amazing culinary skillz (Translation: Brian will probably make her cake).

Then last night our daycare provider called and let us know that one of the other little girls in the daycare, also named Eliza, was at the hospital and tentatively diagnosed with whooping cough. So, ya know, proceed accordingly. I believe my reaction was something like, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK." I asked my friend Google what I should do. Google said any child exposed to whooping cough should be seen by their pediatrician. My sister also called our pediatrician's office, since the girls are all in daycare together, and the on-call doctor said he wanted to see the girls and put them on an antibiotic. So I stayed home today so I could take Ellie to the doctor. Fast-forward to this morning, my sister calls to let me know that when she called the doctor to get the girls an appointment, the nurse told her that unless the whooping cough test results had come back, they wouldn't see them or treat them. Even though the doctor had said they wanted to see them. Even though my niece, Halle, has had a terrible cough for a couple weeks. Even though she explained that Ellie had a cough, as did, like, three other kids in the daycare. EVEN THOUGH whooping cough is EXTREMELY DANGEROUS TO CHILDREN.

I called shenanigans on that one. Ellie has had a cough for over a week, and this weekend it got worse. When she breaths, I can hear phlegm rattling around in her chest. It's the kind of noise that makes you constantly clear your throat in the hopes that, somehow, your incredible mommy/daughter connection will magically clear her throat for her. So I called and just told them about the cough and got her in. Meanwhile, our daycare provider called to let me know that the other Eliza had seen her pediatrician and he or she thought it seemed more like croup, which still sucks the big one, but is better. Turns out, my Ellie just has a virus, but they said to call if the other child's test results for whooping cough came back positive, because she'd need antibiotics.

Throughout all of this, my leg has been better, worse, better, worse, then worser. Yes, WORSER. I was struggling this weekend. Then my 3 year old niece kicked my leg exactly where it hurts the worst while we were at an event at my parents' church. She was so excited to ride the ponies and was just kind of jumping around. It was a complete accident, but, I swear, it was like a target was painted on the spot. I cried. Right there next to the ponies. They looked like they sympathized with me. Or they thought I was a drama queen. The look in their eyes was either, "Aw, sad, I bet that hurt," or, "Bitch, please. You think you've got it bad? I'm chained to a glorified merry-go-round, walking in a circle for hours while these rugrats pull my hair and kick me in the ribs. I have to stare at this horse's ass in front of me all day, and dude keeps pooping, and I have to walk through it. Shut it."

Good news is I've only had one slight nervous breakdown so far. Bad news is, it was at work, and I could not. stop. crying. It was ridiculous.

Like I said, could be worse. My life really is pretty awesome, so I'm not depressed or anything, just overwhelmed. And, honestly, the day off work was something I needed. My leg is killing me, but I managed to go to the grocery store, and Ellie's been awesome all day, even with the cough. She's on her second nap of the day. I had to wake her up from the first one to take her to the doctor. she had already been sleeping two hours, though. This one has been an hour and a half, and has given me a chance to be productive. I'm sure Brian will appreciate everything I've gotten done around the house today. So far I've...not put the groceries away and...written this blog....Shit. Maybe I should get off the couch.