So today was a rough morning.
Urchin 1.0 is having some trouble adjusting to the “dad not here but mom is, now mom’s not here but dad is and now every day a different grandparent or relative is here.”
I understand, but it’s still hard.
Urchin 1.0 got up and about 2:45 and was in my room. When asked why, she replied:
“I had a bad dream.”
“About what?” I asked, already knowing the response. (The correct answer would be, was, and always is Fire Breaving dragons).
“Fire breaving dragons.”
Egad.
And then, I had an epiphany. I told her that, while visiting mommy and urchin 2.0, a doctor had told me what causes bad dreams.
She was interested and not the least bit jaded, so I continued as we got her tucked into bed again.
“See honey, look right here. We left your pillow with the bad dream side up. We were supposed to leave it with the good dream side up. See?”
“Ohhhhh. I do see.”
(Funny isn’t it? I always swore I would never lie to my child).
And so she went back to sleep.
And then I woke up about half an hour later soaked in sweat.
No worries. I changed and went back to sleep courtesy of a Tylenol PM and awoke at 6:50am when urchin 1.0 was again back in my bed.
We got up and had our usual morning that included me figuring out what she should wear, confirming that I made her lunch correctly and that her book bag was ready to go.
I then made breakfast after having to repeatedly ask urchin 1.0 to pick up and cap her markers. See, we’re having some discipline issues due to a lack of consistency which is totally understandable, but when I’m here, I just can’t stand it.
And about 8:30am or so, I went into full on tuxedo wearing flop sweat.
(side note: For some reason, anytime I have to wear a tux, I get the flop sweats. Not right away, but as soon as I get the bowtie on. Then, the flopsweats start and I’m doomed. I’ve actually been at a wedding where, right in the middle of the prayer, my mom felt so bad for me that she got up and brought me a tissue. Of course, that was like trying to stop a levee break with a q-tip, but it’s the thought that counts. I’ve also actually stolen a washcloth from a hotel room and tucked in into the back of my tux pants so, when no one was looking, I could mop my flopped brow).
So while it wasn’t new, I remembered it as a symptom from my “So you’re having heart surgery” pamphlet that mentioned “if you have one of these, call us immediately.”
Nice. I’ve obviously gone and fucked up my surgery.
So I called the doctor’s office and, instead of sleeping the morning away as I’d planned, I rode with my sis-in-law to see the wife and urchin 2.0 so that if the doctor called and wanted to see me, I’d already be right across the street. (Good thinking, eh?)
But they didn’t call. Which made me feel better. I figure that if the symptom was a “HOLY SHIT!!” symptom, someone would have called me ASAP.
But they didn’t. They called about 1pm and said that as long as it wasn’t in conjunction with some other symptom like chest pain, nausea and vomiting, I should be fine. It could also be a reaction to the Percocet or my effort to stop taking them, or possibly a reaction to some stressors.
As a matter of fact, she actually asked “Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”
Do you mean like having chest pains, a cardiac catheterization and bypass surgery at age 37 and then having a baby 18 days early via emergency C-section Saturday night? Then yeah, I’ve been under a little bit of stress…
So I immediately took a Percocet and sat down on my ass and started blogging. I got up to pee and eat a Zaxby’s grilled chicken Caesar salad, but that’s it. I’m not going to fuck this up and have to have it redone. No way.
Oh, and the wife and urchin 2.0 are coming home tomorrow. Please pass the Zoloft.
What say you?