WOAH BABY, this week has been a wild ride.
So when you last saw your narrator she was cursing other bloggers and having a great ol’ time with the hiccups or someshit.
And then she started feeling a little off but was all… meh… but took to Instagram to whine a little because that is what good bloggers do and also brag about how her husband served her soup in bed.
(cause if you tell the world, head pats ensue and he is likely to do it again. Strategy.)
But also, your narrator had managed to slap on her iron clad big girl panties and FINALLY make a dentist appointment because OMG ABOUT FUCKING TIME KELLEY and no little feeling meh was going to put that shit off now.
I am such a fucking idiot.
Well fast forward a week and here we are. I had a tooth removed that required them to call in a surgeon because it was that fucking horrendous and then do stitches which are still hanging in my mouth, and a filling on the other side. I had four hundred million needles including one on the roof of my mouth. Ended up with some sort of weird arsed fucking rare complication where you get a throat infection from the bacteria from the broken tooth, oral thrush, THE MOTHERFUCKING FLU (get the flu shots kids… jesus, they were free at my work but I was sick on the day mine was scheduled. Fucking typical), massive doses of antibiotics and even though I am taking all of the probiotics in the known universe my lady garden has burned down.
And I haven’t been able to talk for nearly a week. Or eat. Or watch any of All The Housewives Of All The Places because I can barely concentrate on keeping conscious.
Poor Boo keeps walking into my room and asking me if I am going to die today.
On Saturday night, MPS was off Doof Doofing and Boo was the man of the house so he crawled into bed next to me. All 6ft billion of him felt so tiny as he kissed me gently on the cheek for the first time ever without bribery and he whispered worriedly ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you’
And then, periodically as I come up for air after a coughing fit I will get a text message from him ‘You OK?’ He is so worried, I have never spent nearly a week in bed before and I sure as shit have never spent this long without slapping on a full face of makeup.
I must look absolutely terrifying.
I should rent my face out for Halloween.