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October 23, 2000
three years ago

Hard Day

It's very nice to start the morning with a couple really nice croissants and a big glass of juice. Okay, to have the true French experience, I should have roasted and brewed some espresso and added just enough hot milk to enjoy it a lot; but I didn't want to play with caffeine this morning as my digestive tract wasn't feeling too good. It kept feeling worse and worse as the day went on, and while I got through a few work things, I was feeling really bad and not all that energetic.

One of the scary things is that in the What to Expect book there's just a little section on diarreha that says that if you have it, it's something to get really worried about when you're pregnant. It just shouldn't happen. The thing is that my entire life I just have it occassionally, when I'm stressed, when I've eaten something too rich for my system, or just because. It only lasts a day or, at most, two, and it's pretty painful during, but not too bad in the scheme of things. Problem was that with the pregnancy I have to eat and when I eat only carbohydrates I feel awful. Yet, when I have this kind of illness, I usually revert to only simple carbos so that my digestive system gets a rest and only has to handle simple things.

So I'm kinda caught between a rock and a hard place.

What was also interesting was knowing that a number of people in my work group and who sit around where I sit were all having stomach or digestive problems from various types of stomach flu. So I didn't know if my problems were from the richness of the croissants or if it was just a version of the flu catching up with me.

I tried a compromise for lunch. I dragged Cary and John to the Asian Market and I had a big bowl of pho, which is a clear broth with rice noodles and plain, very thinly sliced beef with a few vegetables. On the cold and sunny day, it was very, very satisfying and was mostly simple things. It didn't make my digestive tract all that much happier, however.

I slogged through the afternoon feeling miserable. I mostly drank decaff'ed pu-erh tea, which is supposed to be useful for digestion, and just tried surviving work and other things.

When we got home, John still had to write something for work, and I wanted rice glop for dinner. It's basically really soupy rice, rice cooked in way too much water in kinda the same way split pea soup is just split peas cooked in way too much water for way too long. All the starches just explode into the water and thicken everything up. Plain, simple carbos, and what I always used to eat when I felt this way. I got to a good stopping place when John said that the porridge was done and I had a nice, big helping of it. It got rid of the stomach pangs pretty thoroughly, but was definitely not *satisfying*.

Ah well. I simply ate more later, after watching some baseball and showing John around the place where I got stuck, he couldn't figure it out, either, so I'll actually have to look at one or another walkthrough tomorrow. There's a certain point beyond which if I spend an hour or two looking at a place, and I still don't get it that I'll just stop, since I know the answer is somewhere. One good thing is that I leveled up pretty much everyone during all the wandering around and meeting bad and strange beasties. Lots and lots of fights, and I still had the beach port to go back to to rest up and heal up without spending too much money.

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I heard Fezzik barking a lot more outside. John said that he'd been doing it all evening, but it was getting late and I was wondering if Fezzik wanted to come in as it was supposed to be cold out tonight. So I went out the front door and Fezzik was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He wouldn't come up even when I coaxed him and ordered him to come, so I went down and petted him and tried to get him to start up and he got his two front paws up a step or two. So I put them up another step and his rear legs collapsed, which had me worried. Eventually, I just picked up his rear end and he got his front paws to work and I wheelbarrowed him up the steps. Once at the top, however, he wasn't having a good time with his rear legs even on the rough wood of the porch. He wanted to go inside, so I let him in and he just sprawled, repeatedly, on the smooth wood floor. Eek. When he finally got to the carpet, his rear legs were not doing any better even with the traction.

That was really, really scary.

Fezzik wandered about, falling everywhere for a little bit and then kinda started clawing his way to the front door. I helped his back end across the slippery stuff, but his front paws also didn't find too much purchase so it ended up with John and I getting him out the front door. Fezzik just flopped there, right in front of the door and looked like he had absolutely no intension of moving. So I moved his outdoor bed to one side of him and his five gallon drinking dish to the other and let him just stay there. He seemed content and even if he pee'ed right where he was lying, it wouldn't be a problem. The night air wasn't that cold, as incoming cloud cover blanketed the night and kept the warmth the ground gave off close to the ground.

I went back inside for a bit and heard a *thump* and John reported that Fezzik had moved halfway onto his bed. A while later there was another big thump, and I looked out and he was on his bed completely. I went outside and sat next to him and he leaned his head against my knee. I petted him a lot, hugged him a lot and told him how good he was, and he actually seemed reassured. I think that all the wrestling and scrambling had gotten him a bit anxious and he could also figure out, as much from our voices as anything, that we were severely worried and even, perhaps, a bit upset. So I think it helped that he got told, in reassuring voice tone, that he was okay. He relaxed under my hands and where we touched was warm when everything else was pretty chilly.

I was shivering a little by the time I went back in. Fezzik was fast asleep and relaxed as anything, the fur coat makes a big difference. John and I talked, as he has to leave for San Jose on a business trip on Wednesday and if I had to deal with a Fezzik that needed lifting up and down the stairs, I wasn't at all sure that I could cope. He said that if Fezzik wasn't any better he wasn't going. Simple. It's just work. That reassured me immensely, and I decided that I should just take a bath to relax enough to get to sleep.

I drew a mildly warm bath and added a bit of almond oil and a double handful of epsom salts. Nothing to irritate already pretty fragile skin. I have a bunch of rashes in various places, now, some of it is just than wherever I scratch, it just seems to come up now. I also have patches, here and there, of just plain darkness. It's kinda weird, in some ways, but all the books say it's normal. Belly and back actually look pretty good, which is nice. I was very, very, very glad of the warm bath. The really funny thing was that when I finally settled and got shoulders and back and legs to all relax, there were sudden ripples from my belly! The baby was actually moving hard enough to cause ripples in the water! I put my hands on my tummy, blinking a bit and could feel something pushing up, sharply, from underneath the skin. Thump, thump, and a rolling tumble-like motion. I'd been thinking that the sensations were just from my recaltrant digestive system, but some of those sensations were actually the baby!

John wandered by at one point, I could hear him in the bedroom, and I called for him and had him soak his hand in the hot bath water, first, before putting it on my belly. His expression was priceless. For the first time, he could clearly feel the movements of the kid! It really was amazing.

So, warm and relaxed and still glowing a bit from that wonder, I went to sleep and slept very deeply.

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