I Spoke Too Soon

We've named the quail Old G.Q., which is short for General Quail. I think he's the lookout for the quail family living in our neighbor's and our back yards. In truth, it's probably a bunch of quail taking turns, but we've happily glossed over that thought.

This last weekend was hard! The main thing I learned, which I'll share with all of you so you don't make the same mistake I did, is that if you ever have surgery for anything, no matter how small, give yourself a few days to recover. I tried to treat Saturday like a normal Saturday, and by the end of the day, I was done.

I woke up with the kids, thinking I was feeling better, and I cleaned the kitchen, put dinner together to pop in the oven later, packed clothes and coats and food to go mushrooming in the Blue Mountains, and took Alyssa to ballet. After ballet, we piled in the car, and I just crashed.

"I don't feel good," I told Brian, and he told me to lay back and get some rest. "No, I mean I really don't feel good." All day Friday, if I stood up, I felt nauseated, but if I lay back down, I felt fine again. On Saturday afternoon, I just felt sick, no matter what I did. It was that sick feeling you get when you're pregnant and you think, "If I just eat something, I'll feel better," but then eat something and you don't feel better, so you eat something else and you still don't feel better. And because of my horrible cold, I couldn't breathe through my nose again, and my throat was sore and nasty from the surgery. It was crazy!

So we got to the cabin and I slept on the couch while Brian and the kids ran around finding mushrooms. I felt well enough to stick dinner in the oven, but once we were done eating, we packed back up again and headed home, instead of staying through Monday like the original plan. I could tell Brian was sad that we wouldn't be able to do more mushrooming, but he was so nice to take me home.

I stayed home from church on Sunday and slept and slept and slept, and I even took a nap yesterday afternoon while Marcus was sleeping. It's been a strange recovery, and I still feel a little bit of that icky sick feeling, so I'm wondering if I came down with something that decided to show up at just the right- er, wrong- moment. And no, I'm not pregnant. Believe me, I did my fair share of wondering this weekend. We stopped at the dollar store while we were running errands yesterday and picked up a few tests, but also they had me take a test before my surgery on Friday, and I'm assuming they would have told me and probably canceled the surgery if the test had turned out positive.

I'm still glad I had the surgery, though. My voice is so much clearer; it's so much easier to talk. I've caught myself singing a couple of times, and I've had to stop myself to follow the quiet-for-two-weeks rule. I think I'm going to sing at church next week, maybe a little.