Flu 2018: How it Progressed

Embracing winter mind (see prior post) is all well and good until the smallest member of your household contracts the very bad, horrible, no good, really quite awful flu of 2018. Here’s how it progressed (to date):

  1. Sunday (2/4)–Flu came on suddenly with sore throat, chills, extreme fatigue, lack of appetite and low grade fever.
  2. Monday (2/5)–Fever climbed from 101 degrees to 104.2 later in the day. My child, who never naps, slept almost all day. No appetite whatsoever. Difficult to get fluids in him but I roused him periodically for sips of water. Still, I saw his lips getting dry. As the fever crested over the 104 point, I finally gave him Tylenol. This child has a mild clotting disorder (in addition to bilateral hearing loss and asthma), so Ibuprofen is not an option. In general, I let fevers run their course, but above 104 (and climbing), I was ready to move into action with a fever reducer. Tylenol brought the fever down to about 102 within two hours. With his sleeping schedule so off and feeling better on fever reducer, he was up for a few hours in the middle of the night. He urinated two times this day. Very dizzy. Needed help walking to bathroom.
  3. Tuesday (2/6)–Wakes feeling a little better. Fever hovers around 101 to 102 all day without fever reducer. At 8:10 am, while lying down, a nose bleed starts. Nose bleeds are difficult given his clotting disorder (not hemophilia). It took one hour to quell bleeding. Two times in the two hours thereafter, the clot was disrupted and we had more bleeding, but both were resolved in 20-30 minutes. This took us up to about 11 am. Slept most of afternoon. Woke up with fever down to 100 degrees. Yay. My husband came home from work early to spell me. Yay. And was here in time to witness and clean up the vomit of mostly blood and water. Child spends evening panicked about throwing up again. 3rd day with virtually no food.
  4. Wednesday (2/7)–Sleeps in as possibility of school is still out. Nose bleeds starts almost immediately upon waking. Bright red blood all over our light colored, eco-friendly wool carpet. My husband had only just pulled out of driveway. Called him back to deal with nosebleed while I scrubbed all of the blood spots on the carpet with mineral water (very very useful in getting out blood stains). Fever down to 99.0. Mostly a better day with some appetite returning. Cough begins late in day. Because my son has asthma, we started him using his nebulizer. Anxiety about potential of returning to school the following day (yes, this child also suffers from anxiety) and so he was very late falling to sleep. Peaceful sleep, however, once sleep comes.
  5. Thursday (2/8)–at least so far. Wakes up late. I let him sleep in (for him, this is 7:45 or 8). Wakes up with quite a cough. No fever. Use nebulizer. Almost normal appetite. No nose bleed. Yay! Epsom salt bath in warmest water he can tolerate to help start clearing toxins out and loosen lungs.

Meanwhile, I have the latest, greatest (I hope) version/revision of my memoir-in-progress due to a writing mentor tomorrow.  Yes, it could be rescheduled but it might get worked into her schedule much later and I have a pitch fest coming up in April. I want this done by then so need to stay on track. I’ve been working in tiny bursts this week. I’m trying to listen to Natalie Goldberg’s words, told to those of us who attended a Q & A session with her at The Loft Literary Center (Mpls) : Don’t let your writing be tossed aside.

Because it’s been such a tough week, its especially important to become intentional with my gratitude. I’m grateful for these things:

  1. My husband and I are remaining healthy (we think he had the flu in November and me in September);
  2. Although we’ve been on the brink of going to the ER a few times, we’ve managed to deal with this flu at home.
  3. I’ve been able to be home with my son this week.
  4. My husband wasn’t traveling for work this week.
  5. Our highly demanding kitten, Bilbo, has seemed to understand he needed to be extra good this week.
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Bilbo would not be tossed aside; on Monday, high fever day, Bilbo insisted on being right next to Josh, purring. I’ve read cat’s purrs are healing. I think Bilbo was trying to help my little guy out.

Because my memoir has exploded into a generational memoir over the last few months, I’ve been seeped in research. I’ve been very mindful this week that my Great Aunt Teresa died 100 years ago, of the 1918 flu epidemic. I’m also grateful for life, mine and my lovelies.

 

Now I Can See

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I live across from a cemetery now; the neighbors are rather quiet.

The corners of the sky glow pink and red as the last of this New Year’s daylight slips away.

I’ve just come through one of the more difficult parenting months of my life. The months ahead do not look less difficult, but perhaps unknown light will emerge around the edges of the darkness. There is, in any situation, always room for hope.

Last night, I journaled about the low lights and highlights of 2017, a practice I learned from Sister Karol Jackowski. I was blessed to take both Spiritual Writing and Nature Writing from “Karol” during my MFA program. From Karol, I not only learned to write better, I learned to live better.

In accessing my low and highlights, I recognized (which I think is the point of this exercise) the kernels of grace that exist in each down turn, each dark path. Many of the seeds of my highlights were germinated in the low lights.

Whether fortune or foe, who is to say, goes a familiar Buddhist teaching.

“Barn burned down, now I can see the moon.”  Mizuta Masahide

Now I can see.

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And sometimes, the barn can be salvaged.

On Manifesting One’s Dreams

Just over 15 years ago, I got divorced. At the time, I was a perfectionist (and still in recovery today). Divorce didn’t fit into my story about perfection. To complicate matters, in high school, I’d been voted “Most Likely to Succeed.” I’d taken that silly vote as a directive: You must succeed. Plus, I held a very narrow definition of success back then (case in point: I went to law school when I wanted to get my Masters in English, focusing on creative writing). A divorce certainly didn’t sound anything like “success;” instead it reeked of failure. After the divorce, this straight-A student (although law school cured me of my straight A streak), felt like I was walking around with a huge red “F” on my shirt.

But life goes on. You eventually move on. You become kinder with yourself (and hopefully with others) and you give yourself more grace. You develop new goals, like becoming a certified yoga instructor and going back to school and getting your MFA. You begin making lists of venues where you’d like to see your work. One of those lists (written in your journal, where you are known to create many different kinds of lists) included getting published on Jennifer Pastiloff’s The Manifest-Station. (Jen happens to be both a writer hero of mine and a yogi hero!)

Woo hoo! Woo hoo!

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Profile of my daughter watching Polica at Eaux Claires Fest 2015

 

The Work of Adulting . . .

never ends. I’m so pleased and proud to have an essay publish on Grown and Flown this week. The essay explores a few difficult junctures of letting go as my oldest–my daughter–has spread her wings in life. Please check it out!

H teaching her little brother Japanese quite a few years ago now.

New Essay Up on Angels Flight Literary West

I just published a new essay on Angels Flight Literary West Magazine (alfwmag.com). This essay has been in progress for a few years now and sometimes, it takes a sense of arriving and completion in life, before an essay is ripe and can be finished. I am learning patience with and in the writing process.

Not everything has to happen at once; most things won’t. 

Here’s the video that inspired this essay.

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