Sick Day

For the first time in 11 years, since the infamous Geriatric Psych Stomach Bug took me and countless others out for days when I was an intern, I left work early today because I was sick.  Really, I probably shouldn’t have gone to work at all.  I went to bed feeling queasy, then woke up multiple times with diarrhea (sorry!) and feeling so incredibly nauseated.  I kept thinking, “If only I could throw up!” but I never did.  Until 7am, when last night’s dinner finally made a re-appearance.  I did feel better after that, so much so that I thought I could go to work. 

Armed with a liter of ginger ale and applesauce, I drove to work, getting more and more nauseated as I went.  And so I called LB, “Do you think that I could take non-drowsy Dramamine now, and still be ok to take Phenergan if I decide I need it later?”  And she tried to talk a little sense into me.  “Why are you going to work?”  “Do you know how dehydrated you must be right now?”  “What if you get so dehydrated you start having contractions and have to go to OB Triage for IV fluids?” 

Pre-pregnancy, I would have done what I did today, and gone to work.  I knew the worst was over, and I could tolerate a long, bad day of feeling lightheaded and queasy from dehydration.  And somehow, today, that’s what I was prepared to do again.  It’s not that I forgot I was pregnant – far from it.  All through the night, Chiquitito was squirming around, making my belly jiggle, as if he was just as uncomfortable as I was, or maybe because he was wondering what the heck was going on in there around him.  I worried about him, of course, but never really though that I might be putting him in danger by doing what I always do: soldiering on through feeling like crap to make sure patients were taken care of.

So I agreed with LB, that I would make sure I sipped on ginger ale before and after every patient, and if I felt bad I’d go home.  Within 15 minutes of walking through the door, my nurse asked me if she should cancel the rest of my patients, and I said yes.  I felt horrible, and the worry about what might happen if I didn’t take better care of myself was overwhelming.  I worked from 9-11, and then came home. 

I’ve spent the rest of the day cuddling on the couch with the kitties, marveling at how much Chiquitito moves around when I’m still, and trying to drink.  It’s taken me all day, but I’ve finished off a quart of Gatorade, almost finished my liter of ginger ale, and am now sipping on water.  I even managed some grits for dinner.  So far, all has stayed down (without Phenergan), so I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll be well enough for work.  But if I still feel icky from dehydration, I’m staying home.