When it rains...

It fucking pours. We've had all sorts of illness and mishaps in our household over the last couple of weeks. It started with my burned hand, which is all better now.
Then, last Thursday, Husband emailed me saying, "Daycare just called. Baby's sick. He's vomited twice. I haven't done my work for class this afternoon, so when can I drop him off at school with you?" I, of course, filipped out and went into a shame spiral of guilt over sending my child to daycare rather than staying home with him, because obviously if he were at home with me, he wouldn't have picked up whatever bug was making him vomit. I found someone to watch my students while I made arrangements with Husband. I went back to teaching for another 45 minutes or so, collected Baby from Husband, and took him to our shit for brains pediatrician's office. We actually saw a doctor this time, and the doctor took one look inside Baby's diaper and said, "He has a yeast infection."
"What about his throwing up?" I asked.
"He probably got the yeast infection from the antibiotics we gave him for his sinus infection. Look, it's in his mouth, too. When it's in their mouths, it's called thrush. I'm not really going to treat his vomiting or congestion," the doctor told me. I was happy to be educated, but I was actually more curious about what was causing my child's vomiting.
"Is the throwing up because of his formula?" I asked. "Daycare wanted me to ask about his formula."
"No, if he's been on this formula awhile then that wouldn't be it," the doctor replied, trying desperately to get out the door.
"Well, is it a problem with him having both formula and breastmilk? Cause my friend's baby had a problem with formula and breastmilk."
"Nope, I don't think it's that," he said and opened the door. "Wait, you're still nursing him?" He turned back around, practically knocking over the medical student who was trailing him that day.
"Yep," I said, all proud of myself.
"Okay, then you've got a yeast infection too," he told me. "You've probably noticed a rash and had some pain and itching while nursing? I can't give you any medication, but if you call your doctor and explain the situation, they can give you some Diflucan as well, since that's what I'm going to give your baby."
Awesome, I thought. I left the office, prescriptions in hand and immediately started compulsively calling Husband. He didn't answer, and after about five tries, I gave up. I called 411 to get the number for my doctor's office, and, failing with that, called Leighann to have her look up the phone number for my doctor's office. I scrawled the number on my arm, which I never do, and continued to drive home. When I got home, Baby was cranky, so I rocked him with his pacifier and called my doctor. I explained the situation and was put on hold. When the receptionist came back, she said, "We can't do anything unless you come in. Can you come at 9:45 tomorrow morning?" I explained that I absolutely could not come in at that time, and should I just go to urgent care. She asked when I could come in. I replied that I couldn't come in during the day, due to the nature of my job. I repeated my urgent care question. She was silent for a very long time. I thanked her for her effort and told her I'd just go to urgent care. I was so pissed at everything that I called Jen and vented. It was a big step for me.
When Husband got home, I let him know what was going on, and he decided that we'd make urgent care a family outing. We didn't want to go back to the one we were at less than a week earlier, so we went to another branch. It was crowded, so we decided to try a third urgent care center. It was equally crowded, but it was 6:30 at that point, so we stuck it out. Pretty much as soon as we got there, Baby took a massive crap in his diaper. Being the brilliant mama that I am, I didn't have any diapers on me. I was preoccupied with my sick boobs, and since Baby typically reserves pooping for day care, bringing diapers never occurred to me. I sent Husband to the car to look for diapers, and when that failed, I sent Husband to Rite Aid. I finally saw a doctor, after a 45 minute wait. She seemed decidedly unknowledgeable about my issues and at one point left the room and came back with a little book and looked in the book while deciding what medication she was going to put me on. I was relieved when she decided on Diflucan. Her reasoning was "Diflucan has a + next to it, which means it's okay for breastfeeding." We left and headed to CVS to get our prescriptions filled. I spent my time at CVS looking at the greeting cards and mocking the mushy sentiments in my head. Husband and I don't really do cards-occasionally we'll write notes to each other-and I stood there wondering about who would send cards where the messages compare their spouses to kitten paws and rainbows and glasses of champagne and use words like love and forever. Yeah, not me. A fuck up at the prescription counter forced me back to the greeting card section, and I noticed the special Max Lucado display. That'll be good for a laugh, I thought, and opened a card featuring two people lying on their stomachs in bed with their feet toward the front of the picture. The photograph was black and white, of course. The inside said "My favorite place is the world is next to you." Okay, so that wasn't so bad. It was just a fluke. Apparently not, because none of them were maudlin or vomit inducing. I was disappointed and wondered if maybe my cynical side is slowly disappearing. We finally got home around 9, and I put a very cranky Baby to bed while Husband went to pick up dinner.
The next day I came down with a cold and spent the weekend sleeping. Poor Husband had to spend the weekend watching football and entertaining Baby because I was of absolutely no help. He skipped a graduate school function in order to take care of me.
My cold started to feel better on Sunday, right around the time my insides started feeling awful. I chalked it up to a bad chicken sandwich, but I spent yesterday feeling too nauseous to stand, and I spent today on the couch.
This afternoon, Husband mentioned to me that his throat was sore. And Baby seems like he's feeling pretty crappy too. I'm wondering when the end will come.