I was so sick on Saturday and Sunday. I had the worst migraine. Vomiting. The whole nine yards. I could NOT be a mom, I could not even get out of bed. I did cry knowing full well that would make my head hurt that much worse but thats all I could do. It got so bad and my meds weren’t working that I wanted to go to the hospital. My parents are out of town, my sister lives in the mountains. Who was I going to call. My son has a permit and could drive me but then who would watch the younger kids? Next thing I know my husband is at my house. He offered to take me to the hospital so my oldest son could stay with the kids. Perfect I thought because I sure the hell didn’t want to leave him at my house. I don’t trust him to stay out of my shit.
So we get in the car and I don’t know if any of you get migraines but your sense of smell is on a HUGE high and even the littlest smell can make you want to throw up. The car moving made me sick. He pulled over for me to get sick, (OMG, really?!?!) he ran around the car with baby wipes for me. I just started crying. I wanted to die right there. I’d get sick and my head would throb. He kept saying he was sorry. I finally snapped asking him to please shut up, I didn’t want to talk about us. He said he was saying sorry because I wouldn’t be in pain if he hadn’t taken my medication. I informed him I can’t hold anything down so even if I had pills, (which he did leave me a few) I couldn’t hold them down for them to work anyway.
We get to the hospital and walk in. I can’t see, (due to the visual flashes and crap that fly through your vision during a migraine) so he is filling out all of my forms. The nurse comes out and calls us back to a room and another guy comes in to start my IV and I start crying like a baby. I am the worlds biggest baby about IV’s. I can do shots, and tattoos, and childbirth but bring in an IV and you’d think they were cutting my arm off.
They guy looks at me and smiles, he promises me I will be fine and that he is good at this. No help, I am still crying. My husband grabs my other hand and makes a comment that I was never good at this. I just have shitty veins and they can never find them. My husband is holding my hand and I don’t know if I’m more irritated with my headache, the guy doing my IV or my husband holding my hand. Just then I am going to throw up again. HERE IS MY BIGGEST HOSPITAL PET PEEVE. They hand you this teeny tiny kidney shaped bowl to throw up in. Either you vomit the amount of a three month old baby spitting up OR you have extreme talent to not over flow the puzzle shaped bowl and get an award for not missing. Can I just have a trash can or go to the toilet…. this is some sport or something.
Next thing I know I am not hurting (amazing pain meds in my IV) and my husband is holding a washcloth on my forehead. Damn. He used to be so kind. I start crying. He asks if I’m okay I said yes, my head just really hurts. I thank him for bringing me to the ER. I fall asleep to him rubbing my hair. I get sent home two hours later with meds for my vomiting, pain and migraine. He says he will stay late and make the kids dinner. I put all my medication under my mattress upon which I was laying and went to bed. I woke again at 9pm freaking out got out of bed. Came out to the main room and he was on the couch watching TV. He said he did our second youngest homework with her and put all the kids to bed. He had made them dinner and cleaned up the dishes. I said thank you and realized he had a bowl of the soup he made the kids in the microwave for me. The thought was nice but the thought of food made my stomach roll. Why can’t it be like this? Him helping. Him being clean. Because if it was I’d stay with him in a heartbeat. Under all the drugs and crap he is a really good, caring man.