pity party

I have been really good about not complaining, but I've had it.  Okay, well I've been really good about not complaining in public.  My family and my husband have heard it all though.  It has just gotten to the point where I just don't want to keep it in anymore and I want to have a pity party.

There is a running joke with pretty much anyone that knows me, that I should live in a bubble.  Not only am I incredibly accident prone, but I get sick with things that no one else will ever come across in their lifetime.  Like the mumps, who gets the mumps?!  Me, that's who.  Pneumonia 4 times?  Check.  Mono?  Yep.  Bones that are too long?  Let's saw 'em off.  "Regular" illnesses hit me with a vengeance; bronchitis for 2 months and strep that put me in the hospital.  And countless other things that I actually put into a list and had an ailment or injury or allergy for every. single. letter. of the alphabet.  Most letters had multiples.  Can Tricare drop you?  Because I'm getting a little nervous...

But I digress...  What I'm really here to complain about is the fact that I haven't felt 100% since January.  Yeah, that would be almost a full year of my life of feeling just plain crappy.  It started with the ever common morning sickness in the first trimester.  Then it was the out of control fatigue in the second trimester.  After that, it was the general uncomfortableness of the third trimester. And we can't forget the recurring lower back pain and constant heartburn throughout, of course.

Then there was labor.  No walk in the park, especially being sans husband (who was 7,000 miles away at war) but I thought at least after recovery it would be smooth sailing.  Then, I got slapped in the face.  Recovery did NOT go as planned, to say the least.  And after too many days of crying through the sentence "it's supposed to get worse before it gets better, right?" I called my Dr.  That earned me several painful, tear-filled appointments, and bedrest stricter then weeks 31-35 of my pregnancy.  A few weeks, and a round of antibiotics later I was hopeful that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  Alas, I didn't even make it to my official six week postpartum check up before I wound up in the emergency room.  One week of not being able to eat helped me lose the rest of the "baby weight" but wasn't good for much else.  Blood work, IVs of fluids, one ridiculously terrible drink and a painful CT scan later, we found the problem, and it was more antibiotics too strong to nurse with (pump and dump anyone?) and a referral to a specialist.  Again, the light at the end of the tunnel quickly went dark this evening when I was all of a sudden rendered immobile.

Tonight we were driving back from my sister's All State All-Star field hockey game (she scored the only goal - go Kim!) an hour and a half away.  Throughout the car ride sharp pains started shooting through my left hip and it progressively got worse.  By the time we got home it was all I could do to not scream while crawling from my car to the front door.  And I'm bedridden again.  Here's to hoping that a good night's rest (what is that again?) and a dose of leftover narcotics (from the aforementioned recovery issues) will nip this in the bud quickly, and permanently.  I really  need to be able to walk.

After all, I have to take care of this adorable guy:

So, in conclusion, where is that break I'm supposed to catch?  I'm more than ready for it.  Either that, or I want my husband home to take care of me as I slowly but surely fall apart.  Thank you for letting me vent.  I promise it won't happen again.

PS:  thanks to Kelly for all the great Guns photos!