Back from the Land of the Dead

I am happy to say I’m back from the dead.  Or at least it felt like I had died.  At least a dozen times.

A week ago yesterday I started the day stressed – alot of drama over The Beast (Jake’s car).  I was pretty much angry at everyone.  But noon, my skin on my neck and scalp started to tingle.  Then it started to burn.  It wasn’t just any burn.  It felt like a legion of fire ants marching under my skin x 10.  The muscles in my neck started to ache.  Then, as I tried to eat my lunch it took two swallows to get my yogurt down.

Thinking I was having an allergic reaction to something (even though I’m not allergic to anything), I made an immediate appointment to see my doctor.  By the time I got to the doctor I could add dizzy to the list of symptoms.  Fortunately it wasn’t an allergic reaction.

It was shingles.

I wouldn’t wish shingles on my worst enemy.

I was given three prescriptions – an antibiotic, meds for chicken pox (which shingles are but the adult version), and prednisone.  I nearly passed out at the store as I waited at the pharmacy for over an hour to get my medication.  Then it was home and off to bed…or at least as close to off to bed as a wife and mother of three gets.  I attempted to go to work the next day and was sent promptly home partially due to fear of catching what I had (I wasn’t contagious) – and partially because I looked something close to death warmed over.

At it’s worst I fought with chills and fever all at the same time.  My muscles ached.  I was constantly tired.  It took three days before I could swallow normal.  And until just a day or two ago it felt as if a low level electric current was running through my muscles.

 My family, who were  some of the causes of my stress, have been angels.  They’ve cooked, they’ve cleaned, they’ve given extra hugs and kisses and cuddles (even when it hurt to cuddle – but it’s the thought that counts!).  The hubby has gotten the car for me, taken chairs to track meets so I can rest and kept the house in line.  He’s been the best.

I still have muscle aches and am unnormally tired.  But it’s nice to feel alive again. 🙂

The Number 8…and Volleyball

Tonight was Alex’s first volleyball game.  She is #8.  Her brothers were #8 at some given time with the sports they played.  Must be our lucky number…or the Y sees an Andersen and says “oooh…number 8!”

It became a family affair.  Her older brothers were drafted to keep score.  Grandpa was there.  Brian was able to watch for a few minutes before he had to leave for work.  I was a little late since games start the same time I get off work.

It didn’t take long for the crowd to place me as Alex’s mom.  When they did the comments started.  

“How old is she?”  (She doesn’t look nine.  She looks six.  When strangers ask her how old she is she always pipes back “I’m nine but yeah I know I look like I’m six.”)

“She is SOOO cute!”

“She is doing so well!”

She was the game sweetheart.  And, shortly after I got there, she scored her first point with a crafty serve. 

Above all she had fun…and glowed the whole night.  I’m surprised she even took her jersey off. 

I don’t think either of us can wait until her next game on Wednesday night.