Confessions of a Mom with Mono II

I am thinking of starting a "Moms with Mono" support group so that Moms with Mono will have a place to go for information and support on how to deal with Mono while being a Mom. Not that I think I have all the support or information that a Mom with Mono needs to cope with life but that's my point: I don't. I need a support group.

Of course, this support group would have to be located in a cyber sort of place since all Moms with Mono know how hard it is to get out of the house just to nab their two year old from the street just to get the mail so to have to GO someplace to get help for mono, would be a contradiction. I mean seriously, if you can GO to a "support group" while suffering with an infection in your body, you probably aren't feeling very sick. But with mono, you do feel sick. So you stay in your chair and surf for "Moms with Mono" support groups.

Me: Hi. My name is Courtney
Group: Hi Cooourtneeeey!
Me: It has been 2 days since I've had a fever.
Group: Yay!!! (cyber claps -- whatever those are)

I spend a lot of time in a soft chair with a warm laptop on my --you guessed it-- lap. I dream about laundry and lysoling my house and vacuuming 7 day old cookie crumbs and cleaning the toilet all while trying to slurp down coffee, which by the way, tastes disgusting now. And as I sit here, I realize I'm a changed woman: I don't like coffee anymore. This makes me sad and perpetual sadness always makes me depressed and depression always makes me crave a dark hole with a bowl of worms in it. And then I just want to eat dirt.

So I do mental exercises called TTB (Think The Best) and chant to myself, "think the best, think the best, think the best..." and such as and therefore. Rome wasn't built in a day so why should I get better in a day, right? I just worry that my java pot won't forgive me...

As I sit and rest and try to relax (yes, those are three very different things) I have learned a lot from reading, talking (phone) and more reading and deep thinking.

First off, just sitting doesn't cause a person to rest and simply sitting and resting doesn't cause a person to relax. You have to get rid of the kids set your mind to just stop thinking before you can relax and make your rest worth wasting time sitting over. (Yes, I thought long and hard over this paragraph.)

Now, for me to enjoy sitting and allowing my body to rest thus finding a way to relax, I have to feel somewhat productive. So I've taken up a few hobbies. Namely one called, Researching The Web On Any Topic That Interests You.

:: I have learned how to compost guinea pig manure and what cold compost means. Now to just be able to get out in the garden...

:: I have studied my Bible at lengths and in directions I haven't had the occasion to study in for a long, long time.

:: I have realized that my stove has not turned on in days, thus proving that the time I'd spend cooking, I'm spending resting... thanks to dear friends who have cared for us so well.

:: I have fallen asleep while laying on the deck in the sun; an invigorating nap experience. And no, I didn't over heat or become a lobster. Vitamin D is good for me, you see.

:: I have learned that sitting in one position in your recliner for 1 1/2 hours will make you feel like you just ate Thanksgiving dinner. Weird, I know.

:: I have learned a lot of stuff.

And now, slowly as I get my strength back, I enjoy the freedom to not be confined to my chair and laptop so much. I'm amazed at how good one feels when they don't have a constant fever. I am glad to see the callouses on my thumbs from opening the ibuprofen bottles are finally gone. And I don't feel the overwhelming "you'll never get better" feelings anymore either.

But, I have to say from one Mom with Mono to another Mom without Mono: enjoy each fun hour you spend playing with your kids at the park. Moms with Mono would give anything to not have to pay to spend time with their kids like that. My next milestone is just that. To stop paying for something I already spent hours in labor for: my kids.

I can tell I'm getting there. Watch out world...

"WARNING: This Building is Under Baby Monitor Surveillance"

Our house is fairly small in it's structural frame but it boasts a sound barrier feature few homes are capable of possessing. And though it is ideal for certain times of the day, there are other times when it's not so nice.

I'm thinking specifically of the 9pm to 9am time frame that's it's not so nice.

In our house, all members of the juvenile category typically take up residence at 9pm in their segregated rooms: boys go to the boys room and girls go to the girls room (we only have one girl; the plural part of "girls room" is something yet to be born.)

Then the adults have free time to relax, clean, sleep, do a project, etc. The sound barrier feature in our house is so functional you could even take up a vacuuming hobby or tackle that Tchaikovsky piano piece you've always wanted to play.

But, then when all is dark in the house and everyone is in their own respective beds and rooms, it is physically impossible (without sonar hearing) to detect any sound coming from the juvenile quarters of our home. So, unless the child in distress shrieks loud, long cries from his room or just comes upstairs, turns on all the lights, strips his night clothes off and sits at the dining room table screaming his head off while re-enacting an alien abduction, his cries are not heard. (A scene played out more than once by a certain child in our home.)

That's where the Baby Monitor comes in.

A great invention, the Baby Monitor is, keeping parents informed of all subtle and secret noises coming from rooms undetected by the natural ear yet not transmitting any sounds into the sleeping children's rooms.

And last night was the first night we slept with peace of mind knowing our home was under the listening ear of the Baby Monitor.

As the last glow of light dimmed to complete darkness, Toby fell asleep and I was attempting in my feverish pursuits to follow soon after. The quilt and down comforter and other quilt and heavy pillow sitting next to me coupled with the warm, sleeping man on the other side of me, all were helping relieve the shivering air I felt in my cozy bed. And just as soon as I began to feel comfortable and a bit dozy, a sound began to come through on the Baby Monitor.

That was when I wished we had a sign on the outside of our home saying, "Warning: This Building is Under Baby Monitor Surveillance" because all non-illiterate potential intruders would read that sign, and would never succumb to the title of "Intruder" but would remain innocent bystanders or perhaps be part of the Moonlight Joggers Association.

The sound was identical to a steak knife chopping a bedroom window lock. Or similar to a screw driver hacking a hole into plexi-glass window panes. I never heard the aluminium window blinds hanging on both children's bedrooms windows for security purposes give their signature metallic rustle. I also never heard gun shots either so I assumed if the intruder was indeed using pre-historic measures to enter the premises of our home, I predicted I had ample time to address the situation in a post adrenalin frame of mind.

That's when the sound stopped.

The warm, sleeping man laying next to me let out a guttural sigh in his sleep about 7 minutes later. It was identical to what the potential intruder downstairs would've made and in a mad frenzy, I almost grabbed a broom went in stealth mode and snuck down stairs just to make sure the intruder didn't take another breath really wasn't an intruder after all but then I remembered that the sound didn't actually come from the Baby Monitor but rather from the warm, sleeping man laying next to me.

My heart resumed normal beating.

Several minutes later, the chopping sound began again. Apparently the potential intruder had taken a bit of a coffee break between attempts at breaking open my children's windows. I laid there wondering how long it would take for the steak knife to get dull or the aluminum window blinds to send me their signature signal.

The sound stopped.

Several other mysterious noises transmitted clearly over the Baby Monitor for the next few hours. A machete scraped a metal lock somewhere in our basement. The classic metal on metal made me realize the intruder had upgraded his tools-for-the-trade and would soon make an appearance.

Alex cried a time or two and in my fitful sleep I failed to recognize the risk his life was in considering that if an intruder would be lawless enough to break into a sleeping home, he'd be cruel enough to pluck hair from my baby's head leaving him to writhe in agony.

With each vocal sound heard over the Baby Monitor, the warm, sleeping man laying next to me would jump from his pillow and loudly declare a string of unintelligible long words at the Baby Monitor. A sense of urgency would overcome him but he'd always fall back on his pillow and toss himself back into a fitful slumber of sleep.

At one point, Alex made himself known loud and clear on the Baby Monitor and shivering under the blankets held tightly around my neck, I poked the warm, sleeping man next to me who was uttering garbled English words at me that I didn't understand. I plead with him to check on the youngest member of our prodigy who was being heard routinely over the baby monitor but my requests were met with noncooperation.

He stubbornly refused since he's a second born, you know.

As my fever progressed into the night, my mouth became perpetually parched. Weird dreams playing over and over in my head finally thrust me to the edge of my bed in a sitting position. I groped to the bathroom and then to the kitchen for a cool drink.

Disgusted that my second born husband was too stubborn to go down and check on our wailing child earlier, I clung tightly to a heavy bathrobe and stumbled down stairs, shivering with a fever.

Amazingly, all was well in each child's bedroom.

As I was just turning around to leave the girls room, a wild haired and wild eyed man dashed into the room. His manly composure signaled he detected certain danger yet he groped undirected around the room.

It was Toby. I scolded him quietly, expressing the fact I would've never come downstairs to check on the kids if I would've known he was going to do it anyway.

He apologized profusely, explained he never heard me ask him to go downstairs. He seemed quite sympathetic towards his feverish wife so I excused his behaviour and forgave him because I'm just that way.

As we headed back upstairs, he scratched his head and with a confused look on his face said, "I came downstairs because I thought I heard something."

A wonderful thing, that Baby Monitor is.

Confessions of a Mom with Mono

Mono is a funny sounding name for a virus that I've done very little research on. I'm not sure if I'm a) scared to find out what I'd read or b) would feel helpless once I did know more or c) just too tired to read online for that long. For whatever reason, I'm not well read up on the topic.

But, I have lived, breathed, slept and sweated a mono-type virus for the past 3 weeks so I think that's why I'm self certifying myself to write these Confessions.

Mono attacks the immune system (I do know that) but how and why, is unknown to most (if not all) people. I have never been in contact with someone who has a virus like mine nor do I randomly drink out of random cups of random people's drinks when I'm randomly in public. I don't even drink out of public drinking fountains, for that matter. Mono is typically spread through saliva so you tell me how I got mono if I haven't been kissing random people or drinking out of random cups.

Mono has a constant fever pattern that is physically draining although the pattern is inconsistent. Some days I wake up sick; other days I wake up well for a couple hours. Some days my fever is only 99; other days I have a hard time keeping it away from 102. Coupled with that is extreme fatigue, a pounding head ache, frequent dizziness and growing physical weakness that seems to get worse every day.

Opening the fridge takes effort. Screwing lids into place is hard. Locking doors is a strain. Rolling over in bed is a huge job. Walking hurts, even slowly. Talking is draining -- my voice takes muscles I don't have. I feel so weak.

Little accomplishments are noticed though -- like tonight I made mac and cheese for supper and felt like the world's best gourmet cook. And I did it all while the ibuprofen I took 8 hours before was wearing off. I even washed the pans. But, even though it seems like success, that's physically exhausting to the point of it not being worth it. I pretty much just have to go to bed after that.

Mono also attacks your brain (I do know that from personal experience). Everything is a big deal and either leaves a Mom with Mono in tears or slumped in a dark hole of depression or both. Like at night when my husband puts the kids to bed, as soon as everyone walks out of the room, I burst into tears mourning the passing of another day in my kid's life that I didn't make any worthy investment in. The guilt. The fear. The sadness. The loneliness for a fun family night. It's a heavy load. And the brain power it takes to process these feelings has completely deserted me.

Spiraling into a whirlwind of what I'm sure are pointless fears, I find myself growing steadily lower. And then I start worrying about things like if I'm pregnant or not and finally after worrying about it for 2 days, I breathlessly take a test. I've never prayed so hard that the double lines would not appear. Shoving the memory of the frequent 102 fevers into the back of my head, I wait anxiously, telling God, "No baby should have to go through this! No baby should have to go through this!" I have never been so relieved after finding a negative test result. That to me was actually a little confirmation that God is still good and does know what's best for me. And for my children.

Rain or shine, the weather doesn't really effect a Mom with Mono. It's all alike to her. It all seems grey and gloomy. Although sunshine does feel good on a warm day, the brightness of the sun and the blue sky seem insignificant to the dark day it feels inside a Mom with Mono: if you can't enjoy it with your family, what's the point?

Resting and drinking fluids are easy to do for mono victims. I am so thirsty and so tired and could drink all the time and sleep forever. Of course you can't rest much when you drink a lot so the balance is usually soon found when dealing with mono.

And then come the aches and pains of laying in bed for so many hours out of a day. It feels like slats or springs or hard object are protruding from my pillow-top mattress and needles are sticking in my feet. So angling my legs in a different direction, I find temporary relief only to learn a little later that both feet are sleeping. If I google mono-type viruses, I'll find out if bad circulation goes with the virus. Otherwise, I see now how people get bed sores from being in bed for long periods of time.

It may be recommended to exercise which is something that would feel good to do in this warm, spring air. Yet even when I feel like doing it, and then do it, I spike a fever and suffer for several days, slowly getting back to the point I was before I exerted myself. Rest and relaxation are all a person with mono can do... poor circulation or not.

And finally, remembering that even though I may be helpless to care for myself, helpless to care for my children and helpless to care for my husband, God is not helpless to care for me AND all I care about. I confess thankfully that I am finding moment-by-moment comfort in that.

Disclaimer: I do know that I do NOT have the Epstein Barr Virus Mono and there is a bit of a difference between that and what the doctor diagnosed me with: a Mono-type virus. From what I understand, my spleen is not effected like it would be with the "main" mono virus which is caused by the Epstein Barr Virus.