Sick Days of Summer

Over the past two weeks the kids have been sick one by one.  Luckily, they've taken turns instead of getting sick in tandem, which would have been a mess.  Their doctor said they just had 'throat colds,' but when it was  my turn (usually happens, despite washing everything the kids touch), I knew it was not a 'throat cold.'  I woke up in pain Friday morning and a quick visit to the doctor resulted in a diagnosis of strep throat.  He prescribed some Korean version of amoxicillan for me. Isn't amoxicillan the stuff you give to kids for ear infections?  I'm thinking an adult-sized portion of meds is appropriate for someone my age. But, then again I am not a doctor and don't know meds that well.  Well, day one passed; still in pain.  Day two comes; still in pain and nauseous and not able to eat a thing.  Oh, and grumpy; really, really grumpy.  Day three comes; in even worse pain and vomiting after everything I attempt to eat (which was not much but some yogurt, cereal, honey tea, and watermelon).  And, getting grumpier.  This morning came, and I made a beeline back to the doctor.  He seemed perplexed I was still hurting, but said the meds need to be taken for 7 days.  That's when I went into 'let me tell you how much I know about strep and I am not stupid' mode.  I told him that while, yes, I am aware that you must take antibiotics for a prescribed period of time, even after you feel better, I have had strep several times as a child and an adult, and usually after 1 day, at worst 2 days on antibiotics, you start to feel a lot better.  I was getting nothing but worse and tired of being in pain and not being able to eat (despite being really freaking hungry).  After convincing him I deserved a closer look (initially I thought I had an ear infection since my ear was in total pain), he took another look at my throat and said 'aigu'  (Korean for 'oh my gosh,' or 'oh goodness,' or in this case 'yuck') and said, "The antibiotics I prescribed don't seem to be working."  Ya think?  Yay, some affirmation.  Then he said "Gosaeng haeseoyo," which basically means 'I'm sorry you had to suffer' (in this context, at least), and Jack and I made our way to the pharmacy at street level where the pharmacist was aghast that I was still sick and in pain.  She gave me some stuff to gargle and lozenges to go with the new antibiotics that are so strong I only have to take them once in a twenty-four hour period.  And, halleluja!  They worked!   I'm still not 100%, but I can eat a bit with only minor difficulty and I felt well enough this afternoon to mop the floors (with frequent breaks) and sanitize every single surface in our home with antibacterial spray after cleaning with apple vinegar and water.  I'm determined no one else gets sick.  I do suspect, however, that our poor kids suffered with strep with out us realizing it.  Note to self: switch pediatricians.

Oliver seemed very concerned that I was sick.  On Saturday, he made me toast and juice and brought it to my room.  I drank the juice, but the toast was just not working for me.  I hid it under some tissue and told him it was very good when he came in to see if I had eaten the breakfast he had prepared.  I know for sure he is glad that mommy is now actually speaking and not miming things like 'get out of here' or 'go ask your dad.'  Honestly, he displayed the most empathy of our three kids.  My bed-ridden self seemed to cramp somebody's style as in: "When are you going to get betterrrr so we can go to the poool?"  Or, my inability to stand for more than ten seconds really inconvenienced another who implied that I was not up to my service standards when deman asking:  "Can't you just cut me some fruit?"  Good thing Jack was pretty quick at interceding on the latter before I went all Cujo on a certain someone's little butt, and good thing the deliverer of the former plea  was at halmoni's house so I could just hand the phone off to Jack.    That, however, was just at the beginning.  By day 3 of not being able to talk or eat, all the kids got the message that mommy was really sick.  Oliver drew the picture above.  It shows him crying  and it says "I want to go out and play,"  which either means he wanted me to go outside and play with him or that I actually wanted to go outside and play (he doesn't yet realize grownups are over playing outside in 100 degree heat with 100 percent humidity).  On the right the drawing shows me sick in bed and above me it says, "I love you."