This week has been particularly rough for me, health wise. Monday night I started running a low-grade fever that clung to me like a tick until yesterday morning. I would randomly be overcome with chills and cold sweats. At night I could barely sleep for the sweating. I've also developed random bouts of light-headedness; yesterday morning it was so bad Adrian had to stay home for about a hour to supervise me because I was worried I was going to pass out.
Today was a similarly challenging day. In addition to my heart palpitations, I know wander around feeling like my head's in a fishbowl. Poor Little A is starting to become attuned to the fact that his mother is all busted up. He wants to play with the same passion and energy that he shares with his daddy, but more often than not he hears from me, "Mommy's sick" or "Mommy doesn't feel well." My patience with him is limited, especially when I'm spinning with dizziness or stricken with palpitations, and I find myself losing my cool more and more.
This morning we were playing in his room and getting ready for a trip to Target. Little A got up to go downstairs, and I asked him to wait a bit for mommy, that he needed to go slow for me since I didn't feel well. He came over and threw his arms around my neck for an embrace, then stood back and proclaimed with an enormous grin, "Mommy better!" He hugged me a few more times, each with the same satisfied grin that told me he was giving me the same comfort I give him when he bumps his head. And he was. For a few moments, that outpouring of love seemed to block out all the physical discomfort I was having.
I did feel better. For a little while anyway.
Tomorrow I go to a cardiologist for more poking and prodding. Maybe this doctor will be my fairy godmother. More than likely, as my pessimist mind likes to assume, I'm headed for more medical square dancing. Swing your partner! Do-si-do! Paging Dr. House?
Dear readers and interweb buddies, keep me in your thoughts and prayers. It's like I told The Mister: I want my old normal back. When normal meant climbing a flight of stairs without feeling like my chest was on fire and my heart was about to burst.