[Instructions: retrieve record, put on turntable, place needle, listen to incessant repetition: "We're still sick, we're still sick, we're still sick."]
Not to sound like a broken record but…
Well, you figured it out. However, I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel and we’re merely at the cough-all-night-’til-you-drop stage. Bode and I had started to turn the corner when we did an illegal U-turn last week. I could barely get out of bed on Valentine’s Day and had to cancel the dinner party I had hopefully foolishly planned. Because why would I dare to think I’d be well enough to do it after eight weeks on the sickness track.
The next day was our anniversary (and special thanks for all the well wishes!) The good news: I felt a bit better after hitting rock bottom. The bad news: Hunky Hubby was not and stayed home with rheumatism pains. Our anniversary was a fast-forward 30 years into the future with both of us limping around and whining about one infirmity or another. We spent much of the day in bed. And not the good kind of time in bed. Judging from this picture, it must have been worse than I remembered:
Late that afternoon, Haddie dragged us both down to the dungeon of despair (I think organized people call it their basement), a place we avoid at all costs. It’s unfinished and has become the dumping ground for every random item in our house. We have a goal to organize it this year but something was ignited within me when I saw it. Something that must have been due to my own delirium because before I knew it, I was waist-deep in boxes. Because what better way to spend our anniversary than by wading through memories of our life together?
Yeah right…who am I kidding? My trip down memory lane was more along the lines of “Why does he want to keep this crap?” And then I’d toss it in the Jamie-crap-to-goodwill pile. Because someone’s stuff had to go and it certainly couldn’t be mine.
I also discovered a few mystery articles that I’m still trying to figure out what they are?…
The Return of the Broken Record
Lala suggested we check our house for mold since we’ve been sick for so long. Mold? In my nearly brand new, impeccably sanitized home? OK, well at least it’s new. I blew off her theory and turned my attentions to cleaning out the humidifiers that have been running non-stop since we got sick.
But then I accidentally dumped about two gallons of water from the humidifier all over our carpet in our bedroom.
And within the hour, I knocked 32 ounces of water over on our couch.
And so yes Lala, thanks to you, we probably have mold.
And at this rate, you probably won’t see us again until spring….
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 