Year 2 Day 31: Happy Halloween!

 

This gorgeous arrangement was brought round to us today by Josie from her & David (my in-laws). Included was a card for Matt and I for our first wedding anniversary, which is tomorrow. I made sure to immediately get the roses and chrysanthemums into water and arranged neatly in the vase so I could display them in the window (along with the lovely card from Matt's Aunt Margaret & Uncle Eric). I also used the, now wrinkled, Conkers (Buckeyes) and when I took a step back I couldn't help wanting to catch the beautiful yellow and orange autumnal colours in a photo -- so perfectly in season!

Have I mentioned lately just how much I LOVE having fresh flowers in the front window? Cause I do. A lot. Just saying.

It's official...Halloween is here and in full force...well, as much or little as England lets it get. It's probably one of the bigger culture shocks I have experienced in my time living here. We have had a total of three knocks on our door from trick-or-treaters in the past three days (one each night since Thursday). I didn't bother worrying about having anything to hand out as I have been forewarned what a big deal it isn't here. In fact, the first night we had a knock, Matt peered through the blinds and responded with 'not interested.' I later informed him I found that reaction a bit odd since I would expect that to be given to someone selling Avon or trying to get you to donate money. But that is just the thing, I'm finding people here just aren't interested. So the remaining knocks at our door we have just ignored -- which makes me (as an American) feel slightly guilty unfortunately.

You see, in America, Halloween IS a big deal and ISN'T as random as it seems to be here. I remember a specific night being designated as 'Beggar's Night' depending on the city where you lived...not just rogue costumed beggars on the street throughout the week. In America (or at least Ohio) you would check the paper or watch the news to see your city's allotted time for trick-or-treat -- usually something like 6-8pm, or similar. Alternatively, you could take your children to an event at your church or local shopping mall and they could trick-or-treat there as well.

Here? Not so much. No designated times. No designated days. And likely, not much traffic overall in terms of ghosts & goblins inconginito with pillow cases begging for a sugary treat.

While I appreciate it's just not how things are done in the UK, and the experience I am familiar with is very "American," I still think it's a bit sad that it's nowhere near the same. I mean, I used to LOVE the anticipation each year of knowing I had a costume of my very own that I would get to wear proudly -- Strawberry Shortcake, Beanie Baby Cow, and even a VW Bug being towed by AutoTech Towing company (an old college fave and inside joke) to name a few. Memories also included my friends and I working out the best routes to canvass the neighbourhood so that you hit up the house that gave out the full-sized candy bars at just the right time and avoided the ones that would disappoint you with pennies or toothbrushes and mint gum. Then there was the end of the night where you would return with all your findings so you could compare and do 'the tradeoff' with friends and siblings for your favourite sweets.

I just don't understand how this is not appealing here and it's one custom that I want to make sure our little one definitely will not be missing out on.

::prepares to book flights to the US for Halloween in the forseeable future, just in case::

Year 2 Day 30: His & Hers

Awe, it's because we just share everything, right? Even illness! Matt said he was feeling a bit crap last night before bed, so I wasn't surprised when I rang him before his dinner at work this afternoon and he was already all congested. I immediately called Albion House (for the upteenth time this week) and scheduled him a visit with the GP so they could get him some meds STAT. Score one for the good wifey!

As soon as they looked him over and he mentioned his pregnant wife had just been prescribed Amoxicillin, they didn't waste any time getting him his own supply. We noticed when he brought them home however, that his (250 mg) are half the strength of mine (500 mg) and we can't figure it out. The bonus is, at least, that we're on the same 8-hour intervals for taking the pills, so it's easier to not forget.

Hopefully his recovery won't be as long as mine, but it's looking like another 'sequestered couple' weekend for us.

Year 2 Day 29: Daddy's Home!

This is our favourite time of day -- when Matt returns from work. I usually make sure Matt has a cup of coffee waiting while he goes and changes out of his work clothes and has a quick wash, and Myst will typically follow him around like a puppy during this time waiting for the opportunity have a play. It's really sweet to see because as soon as we hear his car pull onto the drive, Myst is at the front door or waiting at the window to welcome him as if to excitedly proclaim, "Daddy's home!"

Some of their routine involves Myst jumping into the chair with Matt as he's getting ready to play on the Xbox. Myst wants to make sure that Matt knows he is there and requires fuss.

Alternatively, Myst will climb a few steps and try to bat his paws at Matt through the bannister in this fun little game. I tried to get the funniest part, which is when he gets his kitty head stuck and can't pull it back quite fast enough. You can see Myst's "thumb" pretty clearly though in this shot.

If I'm lucky enough, I can usually make it home before Matt on days when I get called in to work -- depending on how far away the school is located. The kids are on half-term this week, so schools haven't been in session...how fortunate that I was able to "schedule" my illness for this week in particular.

On a side-note: I am 34 weeks today -- woohoo! Let the 4-6 week countdown begin until another little guy will be excited as well when his daddy gets home!

Year 2 Day 28: Slow Like Honey

This Fiona Apple song is the perfect melody to describe my recovery process at the moment. Slow. Like. Honey. Can it be any more metaphorical? Not to mention that honey has been my one saving grace for throat-soothing relief. Bless hubby for thinking enough to put it in my tea (and buy another jar last night)! I don't know what I would do without his patience, honestly. I even told him I was beginning to get tired of being around myself!

Last night definitely wasn't easy-going. I had a pretty low-grade fever by midnight, so Matt diligently kept an eye on me and checked my temperature every hour as I was lying in bed, wrapped in a duvet-fortress with chills permeating my lethargic body. We were both worried for bunny as well, but agreed that if the temperature didn't start to go down, we would ring the hospital.

In the meantime, I did my best to stay well-hydrated with juice and water. I had decided to stop taking the co-codamol as it was causing a bit of a headache, and reverted back to paracetamol. Within a few hours, when Matt came to bed, I had managed to sleep a full two hours uninterrupted and was beginning to feel a bit of a break. Unfortunately, as nice as it was to feel the improvement, because I had been resting so much, I also felt a bit restless and was downstairs on the sofa by 3:45am. At first I attempted to sleep there, but it was clear shortly after that sleep was not what my body wanted -- plus, that's about when the coughing started so I made myself a cup of tea.

In my insomnia, I discovered some new morning cartoons I was not aware of...so I made a mental note of those for future reference. By 7:50am I made Matt a morning coffee and saw him off to work. Thinking I would be up for a while, I turned on the water heater to prepare for a soothing bath, but ended up spark-out on the bed upstairs until nearly noon! For the first time in 72 hours, I managed to get more than just a couple hours of comfortable sleep and I woke up feeling quite rested.

The rest of my day has been a roller coaster of feeling better and then slightly crap again, but I would say overall that I am on the mend. My nostrils are absolutely dry and battered from kleenex and my throat has a residual dryness to it as well -- in fact, each time I've attempted to lie down to rest, a coughing fit has ensued. So, not at 100% yet, but definitely headed in that direction. Plus, bunny's movements haven't decreased, so his wiggles are reassuring.

Methinks the antibiotics have hit the nail on the head.

Year 2 Day 27: The Return

I swear I was just here 24 hours ago...oh wait, that's because I was! In fact, this will make my THIRD visit in less than a week. Granted, 1/3 of the visits wasn't related to feeling poorly (day 22 - visit to the midwife) but I think the receptionists at Albion House are as tired of seeing me as I am of them, respectfully.

As you may have read from yesterday, the Dequa-Spray was a huge FAIL and sadly, the Dequacaine lozenge only managed to sit on my tongue 30 seconds before it met an untimely death in the bin. It numbed my entire tongue and I just couldn't handle it. I thought it would surely burn a hole straight through! To make matters worse, I barely slept and woke up shortly after Matt even came to bed. I couldn't get back to sleep and ended up downstairs on the sofa trying to quit coughing and with my nose dripping like a leaky tap.

By the time Matt stopped home for dinner in this afternoon, he discovered his 'Megatee' (manatee) floating sideways in the bath with a limp arm over the edge, absolutely desperate for sweet relief from her chilled/achy body and the blazing fire inside her head. He offered to stay home for the afternoon, but I felt entirely too guilty to ask him to do this, knowing I would just be a blubbering, whingy mess the whole time. Instead, he made me promise I would ring the surgery back and demand that they see me again because it was clearly more than just laryngitis.

Shortly after he left for work again, I phoned and at first the receptionist was trying to get me to call the National Pandemic Hotline for Swine Flu. I reminded her that A) I had chills, but not a fever, and B) The NHS website clearly instructs any patients who are PREGNANT are to call their GP first BEFORE calling the hotline. Luckily, Dr. Hooker was nearby and the receptionist put her on the line. She asked what the new symptoms were and as soon as I told her my nose was running and no longer clear and I had chills, she said she would be willing to have a prescription for a baby-safe antibiotic waiting at the front desk for me.

I won't lie, I was a bit miffed that she didn't just do this YESTERDAY...but I didn't waste any more time throwing on some sweats and heading up to get it. Conveniently, there is a Lloyds Pharmacy just around the corner from the surgery, so I left my car parked to pop inside for the prescription and then walked the 50 whole yards to the chemist.

In the UK, your prescriptions are free on the NHS if you are pregnant, so I happily ticked the appropriate box on the back of the form when I went inside to collect my drugs. I noticed the bag was a bit heavier than I expected, but waited until I got home to open it. When I did, I discovered a ginormous bottle of Gaviscon from a month or so, back when I told the midwife I had a bit of acid reflux and she told me she would write a prescription for that for me. So hey...BONUS! I got my economy-sized Gaviscon as well (again, just a PSA in case there is anyone in need).

Anyway, here I sit with my first dose of Amoxicillin, ready and loaded to go down the hatch after a light meal of Spaghetti Hoops and bread -- none of which I will likely be able to taste. Such a waste!

Still, hoping for some light at the end of this sick tunnel.

Year 2 Day 26: Diagnosis...Laryngitis

With my condition not improving, I made a call this morning to the doctor's surgery first thing and they were able to get me in before noon on an 'emergency' basis (I'm assuming because I'm pregnant). When I got there, the waiting room was packed and I wasn't prepared to have another day like last Thursday (day 22), so I asked if I could wait down the corridor instead.

I hadn't managed to sit for even five minutes before Dr. Hooker called me back into her office. I described my symptoms and after she had a listen to my lungs and checked my ears and throat, she determined it was purely viral and appeared to be laryngitis. This meant, nothing more could be done outside of... ::drumroll:: ...paracetamol.

CRAP.

I begged her to tell me asked if there was ANYTHING more I could take for my throat as that feeling alone was causing me to lose sleep. She suggested Dequacaine and said Matt would probably have to get it for me as some pharmacists are reluctant to give it to pregnant women, despite it being completely safe.

In less than 10 minutes, I entered, waited, and exited Albion House Surgery with a diagnosis of 'Laryngitis' and the depressing news that there was nothing more that could be done as antibiotics would not have any effect on a viral invasion. In fact, I was told it could take up to an additional 7 days to clear completely from my system.

I quickly went home and made some sandwiches for Matt to take to him at work. He came with me to Morrisons so I could get the Dequacaine. I decided on the spray at first, thinking it would provide immediate relief, even though dear hubby tried to warn me of its potency. Instead, the only thing it provided was a reason for my head to end up over the toilet drooling like a rabid dog and desperately trying to catch my breath. Subsequently a text message was sent to Matt asking him to pick up the lozenges instead on his way home.

I'm building up quite the pharmacy in my medicine cabinet, in case anyone is interested.

Year 2 Day 25: Sunday Dinner for the Shut-in

Complete with pork and all the trimmings -- carrots, beans, broccoli, cauliflower, curly kale, and (my personal favourite) roast potatoes. THANK YOU, EMMA!!! To my fellow Americans, unless you get food this delicious EVERY Sunday...you don't know what you're missing. Seriously.

Rather than 'spread the love' that is the germiness currently in my body, I opted to stay home today and sent Matt on to enjoy some time away from my 'Marge Simpson' froggy-voice impressions (Barrrrt!) -- even if he doesn't see it that way. To be fair, he's been wonderful waiting on me hand and foot, bringing me tea with honey, giving me hugs (despite the threat of him contracting this and getting poorly himself). I would do nothing less than the same for him in this situation, but as much as I appreciate having him around to make sure I'm okay, I want him to have a bit of 'normal' time with his sister and Daz -- and our little niece, of course.

He won't be missing much anyway, because as I type this I have finished my meal, it's 20 minutes past five and my only plan from here on out is to take my co-codamol tablet (which hubby thoughtfully broke in-half for me), have a nice soak in the tub, and then meet up with the bed and duvet for our after-dinner sleep-date.

Just doing my part to keep away "the lurg."