Torture Chamber Week

You know the movie set in Egypt in which the culturally insensitive hero decides to invade a Pharaoh’s tomb despite the warnings of the locals? Invariably this bright spark and his ill fated sidekicks get trapped in a room only to find that spiked walls are closing in on them and the scene cuts just as they are a millimeter away from being popped like a zit. I’ve been feeling a lot like the sidekicks this week.

I spent most of the week with the flu and it was a concentrated effort to breathe normally.  I was in a flap, lamenting and stressed out because I needed to be healthy to function and enjoy having my in-laws over. Well, come Monday, Thanksgiving day here in Canada, of all days, the flu was looking pretty darn good because my back pain was worse than ever, and I got a crippling pain in my gut and inside my right rib!

When I leaned forward to give my back relief, my esophagus was on fire and aching. When I bent over backwards to appease my gut, my back felt like searing pokers were jabbing me. I was fighting for breath with the flu. I was a hot mess. I was in so much misery and pain, I was wishing I was one of those fainting Victorian dames.  I just wanted to pass out and be done with my misery as no pain killers were helping me and I couldn’t walk, sit or lie down.

After some miserable up-chucking, and lots of grumbling, by the end of it all I was out of commission. Turns out I can't eat kiwis. This is why I don't eat fruit. I try to eat healthier and this is where it gets me! I challenge healthy eating habits to a duel!  My long suffering spouse, P, was at home luckily on account of it being a national holiday. His father was off to Victoria for the week and his mom was here, probably wondering whether she is in her son’s home or the hospital. 

I was most grateful that I had made extra dinner the previous day as all I could manage was to hug heating packs and wait in almost the fetal position on the floor while my mother-in-law rubbed my back and prayed over the wretched mess that was left of me.

The rest of the week was more of the same, minus the throwing up.  Several nights I was in such debilitating pain that I seriously thought I'd kick the bucket and then I panicked because I had no will or anything. I'm such a drama queen. All that was planned was my niece eagerly waiting to ensure that I have the right shade of burgundy on my corpse. At least important details were seen to I guess!


Due to my lack of sleep and bad physical form, all promises of taking my mother-in-law for outings while P was putting on a good face at work were out. The only place she got to go to was the doctor’s office with me to get an x-ray of my right side and back. Poor woman!

For better or for worse, we spent the entire week aside from the day we went to the clinic at home. My mother-in-law regaled me with several stories of unfortunately named individuals that came to untimely and unnecessary deaths.  The tales were so vivid I could picture the scuffs on these people’s shoes and the horror on their faces when they knew their time was near. 

This was not helping me with the nausea and lack of sleep. Several nights when I was crunched up in pain and longing for sleep I wondered if I would wind up like these characters. I seriously felt that if the pain wouldn't kill me, the lack of sleep will. 

I asked her why a story that can be told in three sentences, basically the ridiculous name of the person, age and cause of death, was dragged out to be an entire saga and she laughed and said because otherwise it wouldn’t be an interesting story without all the details. Maybe she needs a blog too—www.longwindedstories.com

Considering I was basically out of it all week, I was grateful that she could keep up the conversations on her own. After the horror stories were done with, I learnt about what brilliant and lovely babies she had (all four, including P who is one of twins). She loves to tell the story about what beautiful babies the twins were.

At this point, I’m sure I am not her favorite daughter-in-law because I always burst out laughing and ask her what happened? This really bugs her to no end. I must say though, she dotes on her kids, and would do anything for them.

When we went to the clinic, we had a little time before we had to pick up my four year old, Lanes, so we had lunch at an Indian place. My mother-in-law was in the mood for rice and I liked the idea of a buffet since I was starving and I wanted to feed the beast (my belly) before it rebelled from hunger.

Well, yes, I know. Only a moron would eat Indian food if they are suffering from heartburn/acid reflux. At the time I really didn’t think that was the problem. I am not the brightest match in the box shall we say. But at least I’m in acceptance about my lack of grey matter. Plus common sense was never a friend of mine.

While we were eating, P’s mom felt sad that P was at work and not with us. She loves to feed her kids and she wanted to take some food home with us. I told her it was not an option to take a doggy bag from a buffet and she was really upset and said that if we paid for his share, then it would be ok.

As I felt my stomach start to hurl again, I begged her to let it go and that I would quickly take her to the mall where she could get any food she wants for her beloved youngest. Mercifully, that appeased her and next thing I knew, P’s mom, my tensed up back and I were on the bus to the mall. In the end, it rained on us and we never got P a fabulous snack. And P didn’t give two hoots. If it was me, I would have cried a river since I live to eat.

P got me some heartburn medicine on Friday and that helped. Sadly, that night after I fell asleep, we were woken up on a Saturday morning by a phone call and super chirpy message on our answering machine at 6:50am. Two days before that I was woken up with a call at 5am. So much for sleeping in. I think this week I just couldn’t catch a break. I have not slept in so long I look like an extra from Thriller.

I must sign off now and find a heat pack. I have taken two heartburn pills so here is hoping for a good night’s sleep (I disconnected the answering machine too).  The good news is that my lungs are better and my head is less heavy.  I guess I’ll figure out this week what’s up with my side and esophagus.  My sister is putting her money on my gall bladder being defective. I think her family is taking bets on various body parts. So loving.

I also learnt that grunting and nodding helps the stories go by, especially when the tales are interspersed with snide comments coming my way. My patience is about as long as the life span of a fruit fly and my mouth is as big as my bum is wide, so I counter comments with sarcasm. I was never patient, but being a patient has made me less so. But as my ex heart throb Canadian super star famously sang…’take me as I am’.  Luckily, P gets it. It makes for an interesting upcoming week…oh and I turn 35 too!!