Flu is awful.

There I was in New Hampshire, visiting my family and having a great time with my husband, our adorable daughters, and my loving in-laws. Then we got home. Then I sneezed. Ok, big deal, one sneeze. Then a headache. Hmmm. Probably just caffeine withdrawal, right? 

Then at work, Monday morning, I start to feel dizzy. Am I pregnant? Umm, no. I start to cough. My throat is on fire. My face fills up with snotty fluid. What the hell? How could all this happen so fast? And to me? My temperature was 101 F. For 3 days. I thought by now my immune system would have been exposed to all the pathogens ever produced— I have 2 daughters in daycare and I work in primary care and urgent care medicine. People sneeze on me all the time. And I got my flu shot. 

Ugh. Now, my head feels like it’s being squeezed and every single muscle and joint in my body is 100 years old. No offense to my 100-year-old patients. Flu has made me painfully aware of every muscle it takes to get up out of bed and sit in a chair. It has made me cherish Nyquil and Tylenol and piles and piles of blankets which I then throw off myself in the middle of the night. Flu seems to be teaching me about the body telling me to slow down and rest. Having the flu and having 2 healthy toddlers who scream and cry and jump around me while I’m trying to get up slowly from the floor teaches me that I can interact with my children when I am calm, and when they are not. When I move slower, they seem to move slower, too. My younger daughter asked me the other day, “Are you OK, Mommy?” And I said yes, as she jumped on my abdomen and used it as a trampoline. 

This is not to say that I don’t recommend the flu shot. I absolutely recommend it; even though I got the flu anyway. I haven’t had the flu since middle school, and I attribute that streak of luck to the flu shot and frequent hand washing. 

I think the best way to recover from the flu is to get back into moving around as much as your body will let you, as soon as it will let you, and drink lots of fluids. Yes, this will involve more trips to the bathroom; but that activity helps unwind the tight muscles that have been tensed up from all the fevers and coughing and bed rest. My daughters both had the flu before I did and it was remarkable how quickly they recovered. They are such busy little bees. They have the right idea to be active, as long as they don’t jump on me so much.

As for my husband? Not sick. Yet. 

"I didn't know I was pregnant..."

The longest I've seen a patient go denying her pregnancy is 23 weeks and 6 days. I'm sure there have women who have denied it much longer [see "I didn't know I was pregnant"on TLC] but it's not quite the same as seeing it happening. She was 19 and looked like she was 12. She came in for abdominal pain. "Something doesn't feel right down there," she said. I admit, I should have been listening more closely and I should have asked her more questions. I scanned her empty chart and checked her vital signs, no allergies, no medications. No recent labs. "Ok, well let's take a look," I said. I took my first full look at her, probably for the first time since she came into the office. She was wearing a brown corduroy jacket and tight jeans. Her abdomen was clearly gravid. I looked at her chart again, as if that would tell me any answers. No, Chloe, still blank.

Yup, she was pregnant. She later told me she had not had her period for 5 months. She wanted something to be done, but she didn't know what.

I talked to her about options. I laid them out for her and what she could expect, but honestly, I don't think I could prepare her enough. I don't think anyone is really prepared for their first child, much less someone who is a child herself. 

I got her an appointment with an OB/GYN, but she later ended up not showing for that appointment, and I never heard from her again.

What a Fever Feels Like

I have two bright, beautiful, darling daughters who are in school and who bring home every possible illness about every two weeks to share with my husband and me. There are periods of about five to six weeks where J and I are feeling fantastic and not sick at all, but then there are times like right now, where I am stuck at home, in bed, shivering and sweating, and markedly aware of every muscle and joint in my body because they all ache.

Meanwhile, my girls are happily playing at school today. They have a few snots, but that doesn't stop them, and they don't have fevers, lucky them.

Update: I don't have a fever anymore. My husband has taken the girls outside. I love him so much. 

A lot happens in 2 years…

When I look at childhood friends’ Facebook pages, friends I have not spoken to or really seen face-to-face in over 30 years, I am surprised to see how they have grown and changed. I don’t know why I am startled by the outlines of their evolved faces, their bodies taller and their children’s pictures peppering their time lines. This is especially true when I look at ex-boyfriend’s pages, and I admit, I do this, though not often. I suppose I am surprised because I value my memory over reality. How dare things change when I look away for 30 years!

But my life has not changed with as much depth and breadth as it has in the last 2 years. I had another beautiful baby girl, Sweet D, now 1 and ½ years old, and moved from Boston to a sleepy suburb just outside it. We bought a house and we have a second car, despite our diehard love of public transportation. Our oldest daughter Poco was very sick for a time, but now she is better, happy, and growing. Lastly, I changed jobs, which was probably the hardest change for me. I loved the last practice I was a part of, but the commute into the city via car and train and trudging uphill was too much.

Now, I’m a primary care doctor in Quincy, MA at a practice smaller than my last and a short drive from my house. My children go to school literally next door to my office. My patients are older than those at my last practice, but I still have some younger patients. Everyone here has been calm, attentive, and most of all, kind. The atmosphere is different. I see many older patients, something I love to do. My mother is a Geriatric Psychiatrist and she tells me she doesn’t want to retire, because she loves taking care of her patients. I can understand how she feels. It is quite rewarding.