Plague house update

Inigo hasn’t had an abnormal temp since lunchtime yesterday, and Mark is still very poorly, but on the upswing. I am about the same as I have been for the past 2 weeks, with the addition of nausea and a runny bottom, both courtesy of my poor besieged liver.

I saw the infectious diseases specialist today, but the results from my CMV test are still not back. He’s going to email me probably on Monday when the results come back from the lab. In the meantime, he still reckons it’s CMV, or possibly an “adenovirus”, for which there are no reliable tests.

The doctor used the word “mononucleosis”, and Mark did a bit of digging. Apparently mononucleosis (glandular fever) is usually caused by the Epstein-Barr virus, but there are a few other things that can cause it, one of which is CMV.

So the latest diagnosis is the thing everyone guessed first off – glandular fever – just via a completely different virus. I have a medical certificate covering 2 more weeks of illness, and 6 weeks of recovery.

More info as it comes to hand…

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Edited to add – just had an email from Dr Packham, CMV is confirmed.

Sick

On Saturday the 19th of May, I went out to dinner with some old friends (and one new friend), and the six of us polished off five bottles of wine. Though I was able to count the bottles the next day, I was alarmed to recall that not all of us were drinking, which means that (Name Changed to Protect the Guilty) and I must have drunk the bulk of it.

At about 9pm, Steph rang me to ask if I could work the next day at the parenting expo for Babes in Arms, the Ergo Baby Carrier distributor. Despite never having owned one, most of my friends do, I understand the principles of babywearing, and am a wizz at sales. I also thought that it would be an easy way to contribute a bit to the household finances.

At 3am, when we got home, I was beginning to think I had made a tactical error.

I worked from 9am till 4pm, then collapsed into bed, thrilled that I had managed not to throw up on any of my lovely customers.

Monday, I was still feeling ordinary. By Wednesday, I was still ill, but now I also had fevers, getting progressively worse through the day.

By Thursday, I submitted to pressure to go to the doctor. He prescribed antibiotics, which I started on straight away. By Saturday, I was no better, so I went to my usual clinic and saw another doctor, who ordered blood tests.

On Monday, I saw doctor number three who berated me about my mental health and love of gin for fifteen minutes before he even talked to me about my current illness.

Yesterday I saw one of my regular doctors who noted that my liver enzymes were approximately TWICE as bad as they were about 2 months ago, which, since I have been much better with the booze this year means that the liver damage is being caused by something else.

Current doctor has his money on a liver attacking virus, AKA viral hepatitis. Not Hep B, or C, the nasty ones = this should get better on it’s own, as long as I rest, drink lots of fluids, and take only minimal doses of panadol. And of course no booze.

Tomorrow it will be 2 weeks since I first started feeling ill, so I hope that is my lot and I start to feel better soon. Especially since Squish is ill too – he’s had fevers over night and a horrid cough. And I am in no state to care for him.

Thank goodness for Nanna & Gonad!

Carmina Burana

Like many kids not really exposed to classical music early on in life, when I heard the Carmina Burana for the first time, the back of my head was blown off.

I have since had an enduring love, and see live performances whenever I can.

This weekend, Mark is performing it with a bunch of community choirs (about 400 people) at Sydney Town Hall, with all proceeds to benefit the Children’s Hospital at Westmead.

I’m still sick (11 days now), and if I don’t improve radically by Saturday I won’t be going either, but I wish I could. The Sydney Town Hall is a beautiful venue, and apparently they will be using the spectacular organ on the night.

Breastfeeding Guilt

For years I have been sick to death of being told that I shouldn’t provide breastfeeding education because it “makes women who can’t breastfeed feel guilty”.

Finally, a fairly mainstream parenting expert has come out with a response to this rubbish that is a lot more articulate than me quoting Eleanor Roosevelt (“Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent”) and my vague half formed rants about denying women information about an important health issue is patronising and ridiculous.

Thank you Pinky McKay!

Happy Mothers Day

Today is my second mothers day after losing my twins, and the first that I have felt relatively sane since then. I awoke to the sad, but not entirely unexpected news that the mother of one of my close friends had passed away in the night.

Marie was diagnosed with a brain tumour last year. She had surgery which couldn’t remove it all, then chemo. Six weeks ago we saw her and she was going really well. Last week Pete rang me to say she was going downhill, and to come and visit soon. Of course, last week Inigo was the focus, and we didn’t get up the coast to see Marie.

Yesterday, on our way in to the marriage equality rally, Peter rang. Marie’s condition had deteriorated markedly, and if we wanted to see her, we had to move quickly.

Mum and Dad took Inigo, and Mark and I called friends to let them know we wouldn’t be at the rally. We went to see Marie and her family, and I was able to say goodbye and tell her how I felt about her. She was in a coma, but I want to believe she knows how much she meant to me.

Peter and I were friends in high school. I think he is one of two people from that high school of over 1000 kids that I still have any contact with. His mum was always so kind, and giving, and thoughtful to me, and since marrying and having Inigo, to Mark and Inigo too.

Marie left her family and community to travel the world, and built a new family in Australia. She was a mother of four children, two of whom died before her. How she survived the loss of two adult children and remained graceful, gentle, loving and kind is completely beyond me.

Of all days to lose her, Mothers Day seems especially hard.

Squish goes Splat! Part two…

The hospital has a handy little card that they give to parents of kids with head injuries – symptoms to look out for in the 24-48 hours after the accident.

This morning, he was fine, but this afternoon, he was complaining of a severe headache, nausea, and sleepiness. three of the symptoms they want you to watch for. He also had a fever.

I rang health direct, who told me to take him back to emergency straight away.

So we spent another 4 hours at Hornsby Hospital casualty, he had a much more thorough neurological assessment, (and a urine test to rule out another bladder infection), and we were sent home. I’m confident that he doesn’t have any brain damage, but possibly concussion combined with a virus which is causing the nausea and fever.

We’re home now, he’s asleep, and I’m looking forward to a good long time before we have to reset the “Days Since Squish has Been in Hospital” counter.

And I got the results for my mid semester exam today, a Distinction, so I am very relieved!

Head injury

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Squish spent the day with Gonad today while I officiated a funeral for a lovely family.

When I turned my phone back on, I rang mum, who told me that they were en route to Hornsby hospital for observation. He’s fine, and that massive lump is actually a good sign, it means that the brain isn’t swelling. We have to stay here until 6pm, but we’ll probably be allowed to go home without issue.

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