Saturday I was sick...again. Same old nausea + no Zofran = me throwing up every half hour like clockwork. This happens about once a week these days, which I guess is better than all the time like it was in December-January. But by the end of your second trimester and you call the doctor's office for another refill on your Zofran, they begin to nag you about needing it.
Nurse: "You're 25 weeks? You should be over this by now."
Me (in my head): "Well, no shit. But no one's told my stomach yet."
Me (out loud): "Tell me about it, but I'm not."
Nurse: "Okaaaayy. I guess we'll call you in another refill. But we'll also call in a suppository in case that doesn't work."
Uggggh, which is pointless. The Zofran works, it always works. I don't know why the last few times I've called they got it in their heads I need something for nausea for both ends. Anyway, on a Saturday my choices are limited. Call the after-hours line and hope they get back to me in a timely manner (yeah right), go to the ER and pay $400 for fluids and a Rx, or go to the clinic and hope I'm not dehydrated. Thankfully I have years of experience of knowing when I'm dehydrated and I wasn't there yet, but I also couldn't keep water down, so it was just a matter of time. Called Ben in tears because I didn't know what to do and I was exhausted. And the sweet fella left work to drive me to the clinic and pharmacy...with my Rx for more Zofran! Booyah!
That same sweet fella just had to pick me up from my walk about thirty minutes ago, too. I missed two days of my exercise routine due to the sickness, so I was picking it back up tonight with 20-30 minutes of walking, I thought. Halfway in the ligament on my right side starting aching, so I slowed down hoping it was just a stitch and I could work through it. Nah. I slowed to a crawl and just called Ben, asked if he could pick me up from a block away. Now that's what makes me feel pregnant!