One of my young women asked to interview me for a school project. Why not? The project was centered around service. She was really vaugue about it and I didn't think much of it, until I showed up to the school to a gym full of people, a full blown ceremony with a painted portrait and profile of myself on the wall. Holy smokes, I'm glad I didn't come in my Jammie's! Which was in fact what she told me to wear when she invited me. There was a program, speakers, the full sha-bang followed by a dinner. Wow, and I thought this was just a little 9th grade project.
Waking up the next morning I felt pretty crappy. After giving my tonsils a looksie, and rolling my eyes; Ugh, seriously, this stupid cold again? I swear our family has passed the sore throat cold around and around and around. Guess it's my turn again. After popping some pills (only the legal kind) I got the kids ready for a play-date at Chelsey and Jacks house. Upon getting home I went from yucky to awful. I was trying to decide whether to go up to Heber for Jeff's wrestling tournament, or go to my moms. Man I didn't feel good. I ended up choosing neither and hanging on the couch. Sorry Jeff! I'll sleep it off and feel better. After the kids were in bed, I sat down with a movie and could almost literally feel my body temp rising. Holy crap, how hot is it in here? After finally deciding to be an adult, I took my temperature and got a whopping 102.5. I haven't had a fever like that in I don't know how long. White spots on the tonsils, seriously? Cmon, why? For the love!
Are you wondering when im going to get to the point? Here it is.
Let's just say the strep throat is the worst. I don't ever remember it being so bad as a kid. Not just the throat, but the body aches! The pain killers didn't do squat! (Am I being dramatic? Maybe a little hehe) My mom took the kids, and babied me all day. Nothing like having mommy around when you're sick, know what I mean? So at the end of the day, I went to take the kids out to the car to go home and see Jeff. I get Ellie in the car, give her a bottle, shut the door, and stars. Wait, what? Yeah, you read right. Stars. Where did they come from? They're so beautiful....Pain! Pain! PAIN! Say what?! My freaking finger is still inside the car! The rest of my body is outside the car! And my finger is inside! How did this happen!? Wincing, my immediate response was to pull my finger out. I yanked that sucker out and tried to gain balance as the world around me spun. My brain was screaming PAIN! I didn't think at the time that opening the door to relieve my finger would be an option, because, PAIN!
Somewhere in all those thoughts that formed in my head was the scene from the movie 'Major Payne.' The Major comes upon a man that has been shot, kneels beside him and asks him if he'd like him to show the man a trick to take his mind off of the pain. He then proceeds to break his finger.
This was exactly the same scenario, with the car door being Payne, except, it did not ask my permission. My focus was no longer on my throat, my body aches, my fever, but on my pulsating-ly painful finger. I felt shooting pain all the way through my arm. The tears automatically poured out of my face, and as I drove home I sobbed like a baby.
Poor Boston in his car seat kept saying mom, you fill better? I want you fill better, mom! Mom you need cocoa to fill better! And me in my severely poor and lowly state could not stop sobbing long enough to muster a response to the poor kid, because....PAIN!
That night lying in bed I cried. I begged Jeff for more ibuprofen because I could not sleep. My finger was aching up a storm, my throat was on fire and I figured my body had been run over by my car somewhere at the same time it tried to bite off my finger. I had soaked through my clothes and sheets as my fever broke, or it's possible I should have borrowed some of Boston's Thomas underwear....I guess we'll never know. FYI He didn't give me any more pain meds.
To stop this story from heading down a dark path, I did get better...the symptoms went away, and I can now say that after several weeks with a sausage for a finger, the swelling has gone down and the pain is gone. At this point my nail and the blood scab underneath can be lifted from the rest of my finger. I'm just starting to prepare for full take-off.
Are you wondering what the point of the service school project story was? A few days later I ran into said girl at Target who mentioned she was also on antibiotics for strep. You've got to be kidding me! I guess service doesn't always pay off kids!
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| 1 hour after the incident |
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| 3 weeks after the incident |
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