Sick of the Sick Bed

Here I am. I'm in my nurse's outfit, arms crossed, ready for Ross to feel better.

It has been a long week. My sofa has been turned into a sick bed. My kitchen counter has housed unusual things for the sick.


There's been this.

Which he gargles with. Spits in the kitchen sink and uses my dish towel to wipe his mouth.

And this is sitting there, too. Not a bottle this old, but I do have an affection for all things old looking, so I decided to use this picture.

Also a rinse that goes into the kitchen sink. My house has had a distinct Listerine odor for days now.

Two of these.

One of these. Most people call them heating pads. Here at our house we call ours a warming pad. It's really ready for the trashcan because Ross told me yesterday that it will go from burning hot to cold. Even in its better day it never got very warm.

He hasn't been able to eat any solid foods for days now. So he's been drinking Ensure, beef bouillon, and Campbell's Cup of Creamy Chicken soup. I went yesterday and bought $20 worth of Popsicles (yes, I bought a box of nearly every flavor) of which he has eaten exactly none.

He has been a very sick boy. He can't talk and can't turn his neck very well. His throat is extremely sore. The doctor gave him antibiotics and pain medicine. I think he is beginning to feel better, but it's very slow progress.

I've been a good mom/nurse. Especially when he spits in my kitchen sink about every five minutes. Don't worry, the Clorox spray is also next to the sink. He spits. I squirt. We've gotten it down to a science.

My sofa has sheets on it. My coffee table is moved over so that he can see the TV from his sick bed. I've done everything I could do to make him comfortable. But I am ready for him to be back to his old self. We are sick of the sick bed.

He can't talk, so to communicate with me he writes things down. He wrote that one of his buddies is having a going away party tonight. He's going in the Navy. He wrote that he's planning to go. So... maybe now that the weekend is here, he'll start feeling better for real. Sometimes Fridays have more healing power than any medicine. I am going to make him take it easy, though. He can go out tonight, but tomorrow it's back to the sick bed for more rest.

Till next time. Rinse. Rest. Repeat.