Madam Fluff to the rescue

I must admit the last two days have been a bit of a blur. Tuesday was spent mostly under, and then under the effects of sedation, oblivious, yet relaxed and unphased by the world or it's circumstances. Wednesday morning started with recovery, although I felt like I have been in some sort of bar brawl and lost, I thought that I was coping well under the circumstances.

By mid morning I began feeling icy cold, a fine layer of sweat covered my body and I began to feel rather dizzy in my head, soon after that some very unwelcome nausea set in. I called Mr. Hubby with a "I'm not doing too well, please can you fetch the kids plea", but I had left it too late and he was on the other side of town, he wouldn't make it.

I recall one of the Mom's at Snuggle Bug's school greeting me with a "my goodness, are you OK? You look AWFUL!" Why thank you very much, No, I am not feeling too hot, but I was not aware that I looked bloody awful!! The trip between schools is a bit of a haze and I just remember telling myself not to throw up.

At home, I barely got in the door, unpacked the kid's bags, saw that no-one had eaten their sarmies and thought YAY, I don't have to make them lunch (bad mom), instead I gave each of them their lunch boxes and told them that was lunch. I got to the bathroom, tried to phone Mr. Hubby and vaguely recall dropping the phone as he answered, throwing up and then nothing. Waking up, throwing up, someone asking for a yogurt and then nothing.

At one stage I woke up, pulled myself up of the bathroom floor to find Mr. Hubby standing over me asking me if I was alright, hold on!! head in the loo....vomit, hhmmm, just fine, peachy!! Then nothing.

I woke up again at about 6pm to find that Mr. Hubby was giving everyone dinner (KFC) and began trying to piece together the events of the afternoon. Mr. Hubby told me how my little heroin, Madam Fluff, had picked up my cell phone of the bathroom floor, pressed redial and called him. The conversation was apparently something like "Daddy, Mommy is really sick, her teeth are very sore and she is spitting in the toilet. I don't like it. You need to come home now and take her to the doctor!". Clearly by now Mr. Hubby had realised something was amiss and was already on his way home, Madam Fluff, however, proceeded to call him another 4 times to check whether he WAS in fact on his way, where exactly he was and why it was taken him so very long to get home....hee hee and he thought I was a nag!!

I finally "came to" at about 10.30pm. Turns out after a little investigating by Hubby during the course of the afternoon, I had suffered some sort of reaction to the pain medication prescribed. Scary to say the least but my meds have now been changed and I feeling much, much better; back to feeling like I've been in a bar brawl and lost, which now, with some added aching muscles around my midrift, I can deal with.

What I find a little more scary now that I can think back on it was the fact that during this time, my kids were basically left to their own devices; had Fluff not phoned my husband (5 times, she is very proud of that) to make him aware that something really is wrong at home, who knows what could have happened during the time I was "out of it" until he eventually came home; which is usually around 6 - 6.30pm. So I thank God for looking over us yesterday and for giving my Little Madam Fluff the wisdom to phone her Daddy and get some help. Thank you Princess, Mommy loves you.