Estoy enferma

Last week, I learned that my nephew--who is around my kids for several hours each day--had contracted strep. I figured meh, whatever, by now they're probably been exposed anyway.

The next morning, I woke up with a scratchy throat and stuffy sinuses. Obviously I researched strep online, because that's what you do.  The symptom checker on WebMD led me to believe that I had a cold that was manifesting with a sore throat, just cuz.  How nice. I went on with my life, albeit with more complaining than usual.  Ben probably wanted to put me in time-out. 

All weekend, I was taking pain pills and cough drops, and none of it was helping. So this morning I went in to the doctor, because four and a half days of sore throat is just more than a reasonable person should be expected to endure.  And, surprise! Despite being almost asymptomatic--no high fever, no white spots-- I have strep.  I haven't had strep since I was a little kid, when my brothers and I all had it on a rotating basis.  Because I'm a masochist--and forgetful--I opted for the single shot of pencillin instead of the 10-day antibiotic regimen.  Hopefully I'll be all better soon.

Sadly, Darius has not been himself since Saturday. Armed with my own diagnosis, I dragged the kids and my husband to the urgent care to get my kids' throats examined.   December was fine--apparently it's very rare for nearly-one-year-old children to get strep--but Darius' throat is a nice bright cherry red color.  That explains his refusal to eat anything but goldfish crackers all weekend.  We got a prescription for amoxicillan and off we went.

When Ben gave Darius the medicine, Darius got very upset that he couldn't have more than one teaspoon.  Child loves his bubble-gun flavoring.

When I was younger, being sick like this would've meant camping out on the couch and ordering my brothers around.  Now, it means I just soldier on with regular life and whine at my husband once the kids fall asleep.  Totally not fair! 

Being sick sucks.