I mentioned that last week was the week from hell and I wasn’t lying. I don’t think I’ve looked forward to a Monday morning more than I looked forward to this one.
It started last Sunday night when Scot was hit very fast and very hard with the worst migraine of his life. He has had problems with migraines for several years now and the short explanation is that he’s been to many doctors, tried many treatments (most of which are a serious problem for him), and come out the other side no better than when he started. His headache Sunday night was a bad one and despite all medications we had to treat it at home, it was not going away. He ended up going to the ER to have it treated.
As ER trips go, it was fairly low stress. They gave him with the medications we know will work, broke the headache and sent him on his way. Not such a bit deal, really. (I’m sure you’re wondering how a ‘low-stress’ ER visit figures into this story of ongoing stress. Stay with me.)
Monday he worked from home because the medications he’d been given combined with the severity of the headache left him feeling pretty hung-over. This is how it came to be that he was home in the afternoon.
Now, Scot had a procedure of a personal nature about 3 weeks ago. It went fine. On Monday afternoon, I was herding Liam through the process of getting ready to go to TKD when I heard a high-pitched yelp. I actually thought it was Liam from another room but when I looked up Liam was right there. However, Jamie had been upstairs with Scot.
Scot took an injury of a personal nature courtesy of Jamie’s knee. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay around to chat because I had to take Liam to TKD. While I was at the dojang, Scot and I were exchanging text messages and then phone calls about the situation. The upshot was that he was in enough pain that he had to be seen by a doctor, it was after hours, and the doctor that did the procedure told him to go to the ER.
The same ER he’d been at just 24 hours before.
This time I went with him. We made emergency arrangements for childcare (Thank you, Ann!) and when I got home with Liam from TKD, I shoved down some dinner and then took Scot to the ER. It was not as painless a visit as the night before but he did get the same attending. Also, the nurse thought I was Scot’s daughter, not his wife. Considering this injury, this was both funny and weird.
Luckily, there didn’t appear to be any damage done so he was sent home with painkillers and told to take it easy. And to stay away from the toddler’s knee.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were fairly normal if hectic. As usual, I had a crap ton to do and not enough time to do it in. This is nothing new.
Friday night was the kicker. That night just about did me in.
We got to the end of the day and it was time to start bath/bedtime routine. I took the kids upstairs to and convinced them to get in the tub together to save me extra work. Meanwhile, Scot and I kept saying “who farted?” and “what’s that smell?” and “is Jamie’s diaper dirty?” I got the kids in the tub and ran down to the basement to check things out. Hit the furnace/laundry room.
I went running for the stairs, yell at Scot to call his parents so we can get the kids out, shut off the furnace, and go running for the bathroom to bathe the kids, get them out, and get them dressed. Scot calls his parents then calls the fire department. Smart man, because I was all “BUG OUT! BUG OUT! MASH 4077, BUG OUT!”
So, he goes to wait outside for the nice burly firemen to show up while I run around like a crazy person getting Jamie dressed (Liam can dress himself), gathering toiletries, clothes, pillows, blankies, and stuffed animals and throwing it all together in an overnight bag. All the while I’m wondering “What the hell are we going to do with the dog?!”
By this time the firemen have arrived (who, by the way showed up with the lights and trucks and whatnot – Jamie was FASCINATED as, I’m sure, were the neighbors) so I can’t get out of my driveway. I went down to check on things and find out if I needed to whisk the kids away. Guess what? IT’S POO GAS. Yep, a back burp of sewer gas from the main house drain.
Yes, go ahead. I’m laughing at myself, too.
But, you know, just to be safe, the burly firemen are running around with their little gas reading equipment. There were no leaks on the furnace – good, it’s practically brand new – but he stuck the meter in the dryer, turned the dryer on and that meter lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Gas leak in or around the dryer.
They shut off the gas supply to the dryer and I had to call a repairman today (they are coming out tomorrow). Meanwhile, the 6 year old was freaking out that it’s not safe in the house and the 2 yr old was shrieking about all the “SHRUCKS!” in front of the house.
It was A Night and almost immediately upon getting the kids calmed down and in bed the phone rang. It was the neighbors wanting to know what the hell was going on. Oh joy.
The weekend was crisis-free but not aggravation free. Everyone was on everyone else’s nerves and we were all cranky. Not even a couple of family outings seemed to soothe our savageness.
So here it is, the start of a brand-new week, and I am praying that it will be calmer and that I will be able to get all of my domestic chores done without a bunch of crazy crises throwing monkey wrenches into things. Considering I’ve got two TKD classes, a class field trip I’m chaperoning, a plumber coming in to repair the dryer, taking the car for inspection, Liam’s Lego class, and speech therapy all on the docket this week I need things to run smoothly.
My thoughts exactly, Jamie.