Weekends are restful, and other delusions

 So... I think I might be getting my sleep schedule back on track. And I'm keeping up with Duolingo, which is perhaps more of an amusement than a practicality at this point, but still worthwhile. And I managed to run a (short) D&D game for (most of) the youth D&D group, so we're getting that back on track too. And really, the weekend was calm and restful and... {snicker} restorative and.. {guffaw} relaxing...

So over here in Reality, Secondborn skipped his meds on Saturday, which makes us crazy but also means he has an appetite. He had a hearty breakfast, a good lunch, a solid dinner... and by evening, he threw up a fair amount of everything he'd eaten. Most of ended up in the toilet, at least. We got him down to bed, and he went to sleep. Firstborn, meanwhile, got his COVID booster on Friday and woke up with a 103 degree fever on Saturday morning. The home test was negative for COVID, so it was probably a reaction to the booster, but... Not. Relaxing. Still, a bit of Tylenol brought the fever down and we got him through the day and down to bed for the night as well. I even got a bit of the dishes washed.

On Sunday I woke up a bit after seven -- apparently I've hit the point in my life where I only need about seven or seven and a half hours of sleep. So I got out of bed, feeling somewhat refreshed despite the day's trials, and walked into the bathroom and found that the handle for the shower was sitting on the edge of the sink. 

All right, I thought, in a fit of laughable optimism, we can deal with that if we must. I took my morning meds, and then realized that the strange sound I was hearing was someone whimpering. 

It was Secondborn. He had a stomach ache. He had the kind of stomach ache that was acute enough to lay out him -- which is impressive, since it takes a pretty fair amount of pain for him to even notice. So I tried to get a laxative into him; he promptly threw it back up. I got some probiotic into him, and cleaned out the tub so he could climb into a bath. Beautiful Wife woke up at about that point, and gave him an enema, and he pooped out a solid sphere of poop that I swear to the gods was about the size of a softball, followed by a more poop of more regular consistency. Beautiful Wife cleaned the bathtub after that one. 

At which point he was unmedicated, unfed, and feeling much better: the perfect combination for making us all crazy. We got some more food into him, and then his meds, and finally got him settled in just in time for me to try to pick back up on the D&D game for Firstborn and his friends. 

Y'all... I am so done. I have nothing left. I'm going to drop him off at school, get to work, and try to start sorting things out again... but I'm either going to be dragging, or I'm going to be running on unbroken adrenaline. We're going to have to keep Secondborn on regular laxatives for at least the next two weeks, and we're going to have to make sure he eats. (Part of the reason we hadn't realized he was so constipated was that his ADHD meds kill his appetite, so he doesn't eat enough to have the kind of side effects that make it obvious.) Firstborn made it through Sunday with no noticeable fever, so that was almost certainly a reaction to the vaccine... but that didn't stop it from adding another set of knots to my shoulders. 

The house is a mess and I've done very little about it, if anything else comes up I don't know if I'll be able to cope, and I swear by the dark and forgotten gods that I will stab the first person who suggests that "life never gives you more than you can handle" or any other positive-thinking bullshit. This -- this weekend, the week that preceded it, all of 2022 so far, the last three years of global pandemic and related gaslighting -- has all been a lot and it's a fucking miracle that any of us are still functional. 

So if you're still doing anything, however minor or however haphazardly, just remember that you're doing good. None of us are okay right now, I don't think. And anyone who is, is probably in denial. Take care of yourselves, gentle readers; take care of each other. If the only way out is through, then the best way through is together. Keep the faith; keep staggering forward as best you can.