Many moons ago, back in the infancy of my pregnancy, my wonderful mother-in-law, Judi, set out to create a family trip combining two loves: the sea and wine tasting. Yes, Lucas & Lewellen (a fabulous winery in downtown Solvang) was hosting a party of about 66 like-minded folks on Carnival Cruises for a 3-day venture to Ensenada and back; thanks to "Mrs. Amount", Keith and I got to join in on the fun!
Fast forward five months...
It's early February. I'm just at the fun part of gestation, when the belly is here, but it's not so big that I can't touch my feet or do simple tasks without grunting (okay, well, most of the time that's still true). In fact, I am just at the point (23 weeks) before Carnival cuts off its access to prego mamas like me. I jumped through all of the hoops (getting letters signed by the doctor, packing, taking personal days on either end to assure leisurely travel, etc.) and looked forward to our short getaway. Enter Friday, 2/6/09: the day the germs invaded.
I awaken to the soft purr of two cats cuddling with me, happy that I don't have to go to work but can sleep in--a rarity. Unfortunately, my husband needs me to print out boarding passes and such because he's going separately. My feet hit the floor at 6:03, but again, I'm not complaining because I've still got the morning off...until I see my email alerting me that the doctor's note I got a week ago will not be sufficient for Carnival and that, on THE day of the cruise, they need a special form signed. Rats.
Wait. What's this? Cough, cough. Hmm...that hacking sounded ominous. Bah. It's nothing. I'm fine.
There's nothing I can do until the doctor's office opens at 8:30 anyway, and now I'm up, so I go downstairs to make myself breakfast. While the water for my tasty Chocolate Malt-O-Meal (yum!) boils, I go about unloading the dishwasher. As I pull the handle, I smell something somewhat mildewy and foul. I begin to pull out the dishes, but notice that they all have a strange film on them. They look clean, but this is strange. I look a little closer and realize that my dishwasher has flooded and the dishes were sitting in still water. Lovely.
An hour and a half of baling water out with a combination of sponges and various kitchen tools, my delicious breakfast tastes like the paste I vaguely remember sampling in kindergarten. Still, it's only 7:40 and I still have some time to enjoy before we set out for Mexico. I call Judi and Howard to ask them if I can fax the doctor's form from their house. No problemo! I head over (cough, cough, coooooouuuuuuuughhh!) and trudge through the rain and back, vowing to go to the store, but losing resolve to come home instead. I watch Grey's Anatomy, call the doctor to assure that he got the fax, arrange to pick up the original letter he signed (which Carnival never asked for anyway--ugh!), and then watch Private Practice. Loafing is fun. Cough, cough, cooooouuuuughhh, cough, hack hack. I hoist myself up to get ready and go run errands: grocery store, pick up doctor's letter, drop off key with Kristen for kitty-babysitting, and back home to pack. All chores are punctuated with hacking and coughing of various lengths and magnitudes.
Um...what? This is not fair. I have had to deal with a lot today--on my day OFF--and I don't enjoy a visit from the lung cookie fairy, thank you very much.
Fast forward to our fun-filled vacation; albeit, it is rainy, but we still manage to make the most of our excursion. Each day I awaken, my virus takes a new and exciting turn. Here's the kicker: I can only battle these wonder-germs with Benadryl (one pink pill at bedtime does not a clear sinus make), Robitussin DM, and Ricola cough drops. This is akin to trying to disarm a bomb with nothing but chewing gum and a Q-tip. Really. Now I know that MacGuyver could do it, but I am hardly as talented. I even miss the festivities all day Sunday--the only dry and sunny day of our trip at sea--so that I can sleep and read in bed. On a cruise! And I can't even drown my sorrows away in yummy wine...on a WINE-tasting cruise excursion. Oh the humanity.
Thus, I sit tonight, aching, hacking, sniffling, sneezing (big, offended-cat-jumping-off-the-couch sneezes) and wondering if I'll need to take another day tomorrow to get well. Hey Princess, I know you're worth it, but this just sucks.
