Monday, March 05, 2012

40 days: days 11-12

Last Wednesday, Princess came home from school with a fever of 101 and a cough that sounded pretty fake, if you ask me. On Thursday, she was burning at 103 and still "fake" coughing. By Friday, her fever was down to 99.7, she was still coughing, but had enough energy to sass me.

Friday at noon, I had an irritation in my throat. By three PM I was coughing in a manner that sounded awfully fake. By 8 PM, I was hacking so bad, I put myself to bed.

This weekend I have basically drug myself out of bed to cook, eat, cook, eat, church, eat, cook. drink.

Last night, when I was coughing so hard I was vomiting, I decided this weekend was solidarity with all the people who die daily of Tuberculosis.

I have no idea what it feels like to die of Tuberculosis. I don't know if you cough yourself to death, or if you just drown in your leaky tubers. I think coughing blood up is a by product. But I might be confusing it with CF. I know that tubers have the consistency of cheeze whiz. I know that you can be exposed to tuberculosis and never get it. I know that the tuber is the germ encapsulated in the lungs and might never unencapsulate. I know that stress increases the likelyhood of active tuberculosis. But I can't, for the life of me, dredge up what the moments before death are like.

But last night I thought, "If I feel thisclose to death and I know I'm not dying, I'll bet that people with untreated tuberculosis are even more miserable."

Dramatic. Yes. I know.

Guess where people are dying of tuberculosis: underdeveloped countries. You get it in the US, you get treated. The treatment sucks, I understand, but you can get treated. In Ethiopia it is a death sentence.

All that aside....

Saturday lunch:
solidarity with: Ethiopia
we had: a very basic shephard's pie and sliced oranges
we prayed: for the children in the care centers/ orphanages/ schools that see oranges as a very special treat rather than something to be taken for granted

Saturday supper:
Solidarity with: Latin America
We had: burritos
The kids prayed, around the table:
Charming: Thank you God for this food and bless our bodies and let us have a passport and Iris
Princess: and since we have a passport let us be submitted to Embassy.....whatever that means
Eldest: and for the people of....Mexico...or South America....or wherever...

My kids are getting to where they demand to know who we are having solidarity with before we even set the table. This is good. Because I might have petered out at this point.

Sunday Lunch:
Solidarity with: Fiji
We had: Polynesian Chicken
Because: my mother in law is awesome. Otherwise it would have been burritos, again. Or maybe shephard's pie.
It is a huge stretch, I know, to call what we ate anything but yummy goodness. But there was rice involved and I know from House Hunters International that besides really amazing $350K houses on Fiji, there are also poor indigent peoples. Who probably eat rice.
We prayed something about the food and church and I sent good wishes to the poor peoples of Fiji for coming up with delightful combinations of food.

OK, OK they were only on my mind because I was desperately grasping for a way to make it work and I didn't even talk about it with my kids. I was coughing my head off and shouldn't have even been there.

Sunday supper: popcorn and fruit shakes
thank you Ethiopia for making popcorn my fall back.
we didn't even pray.

I beat my kids to bed.

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