Self Diagnosis

I’ve never been much of a cook. Truth be told, I hate cooking. I’d much rather clean up after someone else cooks than actually doing the cooking myself.

On the other hand, my husband loves to cook. He’s the kind of person who actually enjoys getting in the kitchen, mixing things up and trying new things. Since he liked it so much, and I didn’t, we’ve spent the majority of our ten years of wedded bliss with him as our personal chef. This also worked well, because when I worked I often didn’t get home until 8 pm.

When he started being gone so much before our big move, I started cooking every night (that we weren’t eating at my parents house). The kids had to eat, after all. And contrary to what my in-laws have said all these years, that I can’t cook, I actually can…and there are some things that people say I make much better than my husband. I never said I couldn’t, I said I didn’t like to!

When we decided that I would stay home for a while after we moved here, clearly, I knew I had to step up. I was home all day, he’s working. It was only right for me to do the housewife thing and have the man’s dinner on the table when he gets home. So, in the last two months or so since we’ve been here, my husband has cooked a total of two times. The first was just because he was itching to grill burgers. The second was Sunday night, he cooked dinner because I was practically on my death bed. At least, it felt that way.

Saturday night, we decided to tag team dinner, and together we’d make a recipe I’d found online. We love ‘breakfast for dinner’ things around here, and this was for a sausage, egg, and cheese casserole…it sounded yummy. And it was yummy! The kids ate it up, and there was nothing left over.

When we were getting ready to make it, I did question the recipe…it called for 12 eggs. I was thinking, Dang that’s a lot of eggs. Normally, I’d substitute them with Egg Beaters (which we have used often since we have had a member of our family diagnosed with high cholesterol) and everything pretty much tastes the same. Plus, I have this weird sensitivity to real eggs. Usually, I just get a stomach ache for a while, as long as I don’t eat a lot of something made with eggs. I now know that my brother also has trouble eating real eggs. Freaky. Anyway, my husband was the one who had made the store run, and just glancing at the recipe he grabbed a carton of eggs. I decided to go ahead and use the eggs…I thought if they were scrambled and then baked in the casserole, surely it would be okay, and in the future, I’d just make sure to buy the large container of Egg Beaters instead.

Though the stuff was very good, I purposely ate just a small portion of it. Everybody else ate the rest of it! As we were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, I got hit with the worst back pain, and I literally had to lean over the sink for five minutes before it eased up. I got the usual ‘egg stomach ache’, but didn’t think much of it, really. The kids went off to bed, and me and my husband stayed up late playing Super Mario on the Wii. We finally realized what time it was and went to bed around 1 am. My stomach was aching a bit, but nothing major. My back still hurt.

Fast forward to 2 am. I woke up with the worst stabbing pain in my stomach, and it felt like it was going straight through my back. When I could finally manage to sit up in the bed, I felt so nauseated. I made my way into the bathroom, keeping the lights off so I wouldn’t wake up my hubby. I quickly realized that I probably should have woken him up, because as soon as I got in there everything started spinning, I could hear the blood rushing in my head, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I was so sick, and all I could do for a long time was lay on the bathroom floor.

When it finally seemed to stop, I made my way back to bed. The clock read 2:45 by then. Fifteen minutes after I got back in bed, I was up again. I finally made it back to sleep around 4 am, but I kept waking up with those awful stomach cramps all night long. Thankfully, my husband seemed to know that I’d had a very rough night (even though I had never woken him up) and let me sleep until 11 am. He would never have known I was in there, unless he heard me getting out of bed. One thing he always oddly joked about when I was pregnant was that he never knew I had morning sickness because I am a…TMI here…quiet puker. (Right, as opposed to him, who lets the entire world know he’s doing it.)

When I finally got out of bed, I was sick all over again and all I kept thinking was that it felt like when I had food poisoning 8 years ago (and yes, I remember that right down to the weekend, because I felt like I was on my deathbed then too). But I knew that couldn’t be it, because we had all eaten the same thing and they were all fine! Virus? Maybe, but I didn’t know how that could be either, since I’d been home all week, and the kids hadn’t been sick. And I didn’t have fever at all.

My day yesterday was spent on the couch or in the bathroom. Every time I came back to the couch, my husband looked at me strangely and I could tell he was worried. He eventually told me that I was much paler than my normal pale, and that sometimes I looked a little sickly greenish. Lovely. Rooms were still spinning, I knew I needed to eat or drink something, but nothing was staying with me. I knew he was contemplating manhandling me into the truck and driving me to the nearest ER he could find. He finally talked me into some toast, and later some crackers. We both thought I was doing better that night, enough that he made some mashed potatoes for me. Yeah, apparently, I wasn’t much better yet.

During the night, I slept, but I still woke up often with the shooting cramps in my stomach. I woke up when the alarm went off, got the kids on the bus, and went straight back to bed. After he left for work this morning, I got hit with it again around 7 am, and went back to bed. Right about that time would be when I posted the Tweet about the stomach cramps being almost as bad as pit-induced contractions with no epidural. And oh yes, I definitely know what that feels like, I have the 5 year old to prove it. Why do you think she’s the last child? There are some things mom’s don’t get amnesia for, and OMG that was mine. But at least then, I knew I was getting a cute little baby out of the ordeal. I can’t say that now…

Today, I slept until around noon. I was shocked when I woke up and saw the time. I had soooo much I needed to get done today, but obviously none of it was happening because I could barely walk from room to room without feeling like I was going to pass out, and by the time I made it to the couch from the bedroom I was breathing so heavy it was ridiculous. All I ate today was crackers, until hubby sent a text on his way home from work asking did I want to try something from Subway? I really was starving. I hadn’t been sick since that time this morning, and the cramping was starting to get better, so I said yes.

Within minutes of eating I was cramping again, but so far I’ve held it down. So maybe I’m out of the woods as far as that goes. My back is still achy, and my stomach is so sore. I’ve lost a whopping total of 3 pounds in the last two days, so there’s my silver lining, I guess. I still stand up and have to put my hand on the wall until my head stops spinning, and I’m pathetically weak right now.

What’s strange to me about this: I am now sure this isn’t food poisoning, because none of my family is sick; this isn’t a virus, again, because none of them are sick. In two days, one of them would have showed some sign of getting sick if it were either of those things. I truly believe it’s the eggs that were in that casserole! When I look back now, I started feeling bad within a half hour of eating it. I have known that I have a sensitivity to eggs in small amounts, and there I went and put 12 freaking eggs in a casserole and ate it!

Is it crazy that I have discovered my allergies as an adult? You would think I’d know these things from childhood. Since the age of 22, I have learned the hard way that I am allergic to mushrooms, and now I believe, eggs. There’s also that little medicine called Erythromycin that I never knew I was allergic to, until after taking the first dose given to me several years ago…and my mom suddenly remembered, THEN, that yes, I was the kid allergic to that medicine. (She also told me all my life I had an O pos blood type, then swore I must have done the test wrong when we did blood typing in Anatomy class in college and I came up with B pos….and lo and behold, my prenatal labs with I was expecting my first baby showed I was in fact, B pos. She said, “Well, it must be your brother that’s O pos…”)

Anyway. I’m not dying. I think I’m getting better. I’m swearing off eggs forever. I scared the crap out of my husband, who really thought he would have to drag his dehydrated and weak wife to the emergency room…something he knew I would hurt him for once I got back to my old self.

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