Category Archives: Conflict

Travel insurance with credit card – the debacle comes to a conclusion

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It’s been almost two months since I was at the Mount Sinai West emergency room, on the day I was actually supposed to leave for our Thanksgiving European trip. Chris had to cancel and rebook train tickets. He also had to cancel hotel reservations, make new ones, and also change our outbound flight to Paris. It wasn’t fun for him, and just the flight change itself was extremely costly. But he realized that the credit card we used to book the original flight had travel insurance on it for trip cancellation/interruption, so I took photos of all my ER and Urgent Care forms and sent them in for consideration for our itinerary change costs due to my sudden illness.

You would think that given I was not only in the emergency room, but I also had extremely detailed documentation, that this would have been a smooth process that would have gotten approved relatively swiftly. Unfortunately, it was anything but. First, the contact details to file the travel insurance claim were not clear, likely by design. It’s not on Mastercard’s website. You have to call Mastercard, then get re-routed to a specific agent, who can then share the secret website you have to login to in order to submit all your claim details and proof forms. Then once you submit all of that, you wait. And wait. And then, for the first 8-10 days, I got no feedback. I simply saw “pending” as the status of my claim every time I logged into the portal. When I finally got in contact with the claims agent (a third party works for Mastercard to handle travel insurance), she grilled me about the time we left the apartment, when we would have needed to leave for the airport, what time I was admitted into Urgent Care and then ER, when I started having symptoms, etc. It felt extremely unempathetic, like she was simply looking for reasons to deny my claim. Chris copied and pasted literal paragraphs from their travel insurance policy stating why this was, in fact, applicable. I was shocked: wasn’t it clear that this was a very serious case, especially given all the details in the Urgent Care and ER forms? All of the forms had time stamps on them, so I wasn’t even sure why she was further grilling me. Did she even read any of the forms I submitted at all??

The claim was initially denied, as they originally said that my trip wasn’t cancelled, that we still went, so there was “nothing to claim” or get reimbursed for. I had to call them nearly every business day we were away in Australia, have at least 6-8 email back and forth communications with them, endless voice messages playing phone tag, and then finally a very annoying and painful phone call in the middle of the night, Australia time, to explain to them: what the hell else did they need to understand that I was genuinely sick, that I was in the ER for something that could have easily resulted in pneumonia or death, and that as a result of all that chaos, my outbound flight needed to be changed…?! It was clear that the claims agent barely read any of the documentation I sent. She may not have even opened them as far as I was concerned. I had to literally open each document, one by one, and point out to her where the time stamps or remarks around my illness were (e.g. “On the ER form, page 1, in the bottom left hand corner. do you see the time stamp that says ‘3:49pm’?”). It felt like I was instructing a small child instead of an adult. She finally realized after having her hand held by me that yes, this was a legitimate claim, and yes, it should be reimbursed. She reopened the claim for me as a “claim determination dispute,” then told me that at this point, the only reason it would be denied is if the manager thought I had some “pre-existing condition” back when the flight was booked. The flight was booked in July. You cannot have a pre-existing condition for a peritonsillar abscess; that’s just medically impossible and could easily be disproven. Plus, no one would have an abscess in their throat from July all the way to November!

I finally got an email notification last week that the claim dispute was accepted. I got my requested payment back today. While it was closure (and some much needed money back), it made me angry to think about how insurance works in this country. Insurance feels like it exists simply to exist and get money out of you. Then when you actually do need to use it, the insurance companies will do everything in their power to withhold money from you or even make you pay.

Not everyone would be as persistent as I was to get my money back. I made sure to call and email almost every day for over a month. Most people just let these things go. I’m sure they count on that happening. But no, I’m not getting screwed by all these stupid insurance companies as long as I can help it.

End of sanity as we know it

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Today marks the inauguration of Dipshit once again — a second term in one of the world’s stupidest countries. This was the result I feared most of 2023 and 2024. I was just hoping that my cynical side about the US would be proven wrong. Unfortunately, it was proven right.

As usual, I have nothing new to say about how I feel about the state of politics in this country, or the direction that this country is going in. All I can say is that I’ve turned off all news notifications since the day of the November 2024 election, other than BBC, and I will keep them turned off until at least 2028. I feel like my blood pressure will be better for it, as well as my mental health. The few news updates I’ve already seen today, such as Dipshit withdrawing the U.S. out of the WHO, really do feel like they are updates from The Onion. But well, we have reached the end of sanity, so what else is new now?

It feels only fitting, and a bit spooky, that the great activist, Cecile Richards, who was president of Planned Parenthood for 12 years, died today, after a two-year battle with brain cancer. She was only 67. It was really hard to see the news of her passing and to simultaneously know the beginning of doom was starting in this country today. While most of the U.S. sees Planned Parenthood as a place where abortions take place, many women, including myself, have used Planned Parenthood simply for accessible women’s healthcare.

I still remember back in 2008, when I first moved to New York City, and before ZocDoc existed, I was struggling to find a gynecologist. I was experiencing really long menstrual cycles that had no explanation. Every time I tried looking up a provider and calling, I’d get told that I needed to wait at least 2-3 months for an appointment. It seemed completely senseless that a simple appointment lasting less than 15 minutes could take 60-90 days just to get scheduled. So I called Planned Parenthood in West Village and was able to get an appointment for the following week. A doctor saw me, and while she wasn’t able to pinpoint the cause of my long menstrual cycles, she was able to help give me advice, medication, and also advise me to track my cycles (which, sadly, NO one had ever suggested or taught me to do before). Eventually, I did find an OB-GYN I trusted who was able to identify the cause of my abnormal menstrual cycles. And I finally felt seen and understood.

It’s sad that in a country where so much money is spent on healthcare that our outcomes are worse, that care is barely even “care.” And it’s sad that what Cecile Richards stood for is pretty much being broken down every single day in this country. And I have a feeling it will only get worse in the next four years.

Dragging your unwilling “three-nager” along the streets

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The “three-nager” year was always supposed to be challenging. Most of my friends who have older children warned me that while everyone seems to talk about the “Terrible 2s,” people seem to talk less about the “thrilling 3s” or “three-nager” year, which is actually far more frustrating and triggering. Logically, it makes sense: while the 2s period is hard because toddlers realize they are individuals separate from others and their caregivers, they do not have the vocabulary to vocalize what they want. That’s what makes the 3s period even more infuriating: they have not only the knowledge that they are separate, but also now, they have the words to vocalize that they simply don’t want to do/say what you want them to do/say.

Because Kaia was jet lagged last week, the second half of the week, I took the stroller with me to take her home because I didn’t want to carry her all the way home myself, as I did the first few days of the week. I was going to take the stroller again on Thursday, but Chris told me to stop using it as a crutch for her: she has to realize that she is expected to walk, and that she has no choice but to comply. Well, this didn’t work out very well. As soon as she saw I had no stroller in the school corridor, she refused to walk even a single step. I dragged her arms into the elevator, then dragged her out of the school building. I proceeded to drag her across the street on Grand, right in front of Hey Tea where she decided to just sit on the ground, when a Chinese grandma walked up to us.

“Hey, pretty girl! Why aren’t you doing what your mama says?” the grandma first said in Toisan, then in Cantonese, then in Mandarin. “You have to be guai guai and listen to your mama. Can you go with her?” Then she turned to me. “What’s wrong?”

I told her that she refuses to walk. She shook her head. She proceeds to start lightly scolding Kaia in Toisan and Mandarin, telling her she has to do what her mama says and be guai guai, so she needed to get up now and walk. Finally, Kaia relented, got up, took my hand, and walked to the subway station with me.

We got on the train. She got her favorite window seat and then started yelling at me for two stops, saying she didn’t want me to sit next to her. I told her I had the right to sit next to her, and if she didn’t want me to sit next to her, someone else could. She didn’t like that, so she continued to yell. There was a power outage at our stop, so we ended up having to switch trains and get off at 57th and 7th Street, meaning we had to walk even further. I felt like I was in hell.

I had to carry her out of the subway, and then she laid on the ground, refusing to walk once again. I dragged her a block. Then she finally walked several blocks between dragging. I tried to reason with her. I felt many sympathetic eyes on me as I switched off dragging, carrying, and letting her sit and lie on the dirty ground. Sometimes, I got worried in the moment that I could potentially dislocate her arm while dragging. She cried the entire way from 57th and 7th Ave to home and did not stop once we got through the door.

It doesn’t matter how many toddler books you read (I’ve already read four), how many articles you read on early childhood development, how many “experts” you consult with, or how many parent friends you have who advise you. This period is just beyond difficult and infuriating. You want so much for your child to cooperate, but she refuses. And it’s even worse when you’re outside and it’s SO COLD. I don’t even really care about all the people passing by who are looking; I care more about the cold and wanting to go somewhere inside where it’s warm!

And I get it: she’s in this weird transition stage of no longer being a baby and recognizing that in herself, but also not necessarily wanting to be a “big girl.” She’s said it multiple times, and I try to tell her that being a big girl is fun, that we all do it, and she is not alone. She has us, she has her teachers, and she has her friends. And we all love her. I don’t think I’ve ever had my patience tested more than in this period. So I suppose this is also a learning stage for myself as her parent, as in, how not to lose my shit, to try not to yell, and to try my best to be as empathetic as possible to her… because transitions are really hard. They are hard for adults. And they are especially hard for littles like Kaia.

Peritonsillar abscess and a fun trip to the Emergency Room

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I couldn’t sleep on Friday night because of the pain. I had my eyes closed while in bed from 8:45pm to 3:30am, wondering when the heck I would fall asleep. In between, I’d take sips of warm water and go to the bathroom to pee. When I woke up at around 7:30am, I knew I was not feeling any better… and in fact, I was feeling worse. I just had this gut feeling that this was far more than just HFM or tonsillitis. I went into the bathroom and shined my phone flashlight on the inside of my throat. The growth on my tonsil had not only gotten redder and bigger, but my uvula (you have one, too! It’s that little hanging ball in the back of your throat!) was completely pushed to the side due to the lopsided growth on my left tonsil. Having a “deviated” or lopsided uvula is very dangerous and is a reason in itself to go to the ER. The health article that outlined what “peritonsillar abscess” was basically gave me a bullet by bullet list of every single symptom I’d had this week, down to the very clear diagram of the abscess and how it creates a deviated uvula, which is how my throat looked! I felt worried and did not want the worst happening to me while traveling abroad. I needed to get this addressed ASAP, as in that morning.

I told Chris I had to make an urgent care visit, so he set me up with an appointment Saturday morning just a few blocks from our apartment. I walked over and was lucky to be the first person seen when they opened. The doctor took a look at me, listened to me discuss my symptoms in a near whisper (it hurt even more to speak that morning), and immediately told me I had to go the ER and explained what I had, which was exactly what I suspected: a peritonsillar abscess. She wrote me a note to get admitted to the ER. I walked over to the hospital’s emergency department and got evaluated right away (in times like this, I’m so grateful I live just one block over from a major hospital!). I did NOT foresee myself going to the ER this week… in fact, other than getting admitted into the Obsetrics department overnight at Lenox Hill in 2021, I’d never gotten admitted into any hospital ever, so this was a bit scary to be told I had to go to the ER right away.

Even though I was the first patient admitted to the emergency room that morning, end to end, it still took 6+ hours before I did all the required tests, blood draws, IVs, medications, treatments, and was finally discharged. Two doctors were assigned to me and attempted to drain my abscess after my cat scan revealed an abscess on the left side of my throat that was about three times the size of a quarter. They were unsuccessful, so they had to page a ENT specialist on the other side of the hospital to assist. It took him almost an hour to come, but I was so thankful when he did. He was really friendly and polite, explained everything very clearly to me, listened to everything I said and treated me with respect. He even insisted I just call him by his first name, Peter (that was very non-American of him; all doctors here always introduce themselves as Dr. “Last Name”!). He gave me two painful numbing shots with huge needles (!!) in the back of my throat, then proceeded to drain the abscess, or at first, attempted and failed, as well. Then he had to keep re-aiming and moving the needle (oh, what joy!) to get into the right spot. Even with the area numbed, it was absolutely miserable. Then, he did a rather large incision and fully drained the last bits. And as if THAT were not enough, with the two major areas where he drew out pus, he had to inject sodium chloride to cleanse the open wounds, and that was truly the cherry (or the scream) on top. The cup that held all the pus was pretty hideous; part of me wishes I took a photo of it just to document all the crap I’ve gone through in my motherhood journey as a way that I can tell Kaia, “See? This is how much Mummy loves you! Look at what I had to deal with because of you!” The entire process with the ENT, end to end, was over 30 minutes. Thirty miserable, intense, awful minutes. I wish this experience on no one, even all the people in my life who have knowingly wronged me.

All three doctors marveled over how well I dealt with the abscess draining. One of the attendings chuckled and said that women overall handle it far, far better than any men, but I probably was the best patient when it came to not moving, squirming, or screaming. The ENT doctor insisted that I must have extremely high pain tolerance because I never once asked him to stop or slow down, even when there were more difficult parts. They said that unfortunately, peri-tonsillar abscesses are actually relatively common. They see anywhere from 5-7 cases every week, and occasionally even more. Nothing really puts you more at risk for it (other than being around young kids, ahem). They say that perfectly healthy people just get it, and that it’s really just bad luck. They’re just happy that I came in today as opposed to waiting longer because in the absolute worst cases, the abscess spreads and could cause pneumonia or even SEPSIS.

I always laugh when people talk about high pain tolerance. I went through IVF, pregnancy, pregnancy sciatica, and a completely unmedicated labor and birth. Plus, I survived 14 months of breastfeeding that included pumping as well as two horrible milk clogs, one of which, to this day, still has a remaining scar on the side of my breast to remind me of my breastfeeding woes. If I am not on the top of the pain thresholds for humanity, then I don’t know who the hell is other than those really sad, unfortunate souls who have been tortured and raped in wars or nearly burned/beaten to death and still living.

So I finished my antibiotic IV. They checked my face and throat for swelling. I kept spitting out endless mucus and blood from my drainage and incision. They gave me two prescription painkillers, an antibiotic, and a steroid to take for the next 6-10 days. I got discharged at 4pm yesterday after over six hours in the ER, and I went to to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. And then I finally went home to Chris and Kaia. Chris spent much of the afternoon on hold trying to change our travel itinerary, and I’m sure Kaia was angsty because she had to stay home all day. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for them not knowing what was going to happen next with my ER discharge time constantly changing. They originally told me I’d be out by 2, best case, but I didn’t end up actually walking out until just past 4. We’d never have made our 5:30 flight out of JFK in time.

It’s okay, though. I’m happy I acted on my gut and went to Urgent Care, and then the ER, to get this abscess addressed and drained, plus the medications I needed. It means we’d have one day less in Europe, and we ended up having to cut Luxembourg entirely out of the itinerary. But now, we do have more time in Paris and the same amount of time in Strasbourg. I can’t really complain about having another night at home to rest, or an extra day to explore Paris.

This is yet another grim, painful reminder to me how important health is, and how it really trumps all else. If you don’t have your health, you truly have nothing else.

We all succumbed to a car crash

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I have not really felt emotionally all there the last couple of days. It’s been a little surreal going through life as though everything is fine when it really isn’t. And my feelings were pretty much summed up well when I woke up from a dream last night that was quite disturbing.

Chris, his brother Ben, and I were in a car. We were driving along some windy road on a cliff’s edge. It may have been Highway 1 in California or something similar, but the exact location was uncertain. Underneath each wrap of road was another road directly underneath us that also wound around a mountain. And there wasn’t much a rail on the side of each cliff to “protect” your car from going over. Chris and Ben were having a heated conversation about a topic I couldn’t hear, but I could tell that they were getting particularly feisty. Chris was driving. Ben was in the front passenger seat. Suddenly, Chris’s phone rings, and he stupidly decides to answer it with his hand. He reaches down to turn it on while Ben yells at him that it’s dangerous. And as Chris turns the phone on and says “Hello?”, the car immediately swerves off the road into thin air. Our car is falling and falling, and we fall on top of the road below us, and then we bounce off it and continue to fall onto the next road underneath THAT road. All the while in the back of my head, I am wondering, “Are we going to actually survive this, or are we all going to die? And where in the world is my Pookster?!!”

I never have falling dreams. They are very common for a lot of people, but I can barely recall the last falling dream I had. Falling dreams, as most “experts” would say, indicate a feeling of helplessness, worry, and fear.

I am definitely on edge. I’m not sure how long this is going to last, but above all, as my friend keeps reminding me, “Protect your peace.”

When mom finally calls after not speaking for five months

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While Kaia was having a poop dance yesterday morning, my mom decided to call after five months of not speaking. She wanted to confirm what my plan is while I’m in San Francisco later this month. I had texted both my parents separately to let them know I’d be back in town the third week of August. My dad simply asked, “Shouldn’t you notify mom?” and apparently did not tell my mom I sent any message. I texted my mom, and she never responded.

Of course, she makes it out like she’s some innocent, perfect mother who is mistreated by her daughter. She said she didn’t understand why I never called to tell her we were coming. I reminded her, in my most monotone, level voice, that the last time we spoke on the phone, she accused me of not calling when I had, in fact, called, four days in a row, because I was angry she didn’t send Kaia money regularly. Of course, she got mad at this because she can never find fault in herself. “Why can’t you just learn to forgive? I’m your mother! I do EVERYTHING for you! I raised you!” she shrieked. It’s funny to me every time she makes hypocritical comments like this because she never forgives anyone for anything they’ve done to her. She still holds grudges against my aunts and uncle for things they said/did when she first came to the U.S. in the ’70s. But, I assume all of that is completely fine by her. She then said that before this, she had “never” done anything to hurt me before. The delusions never stop. She really could not be more removed from the truth.

She said that while I am at work Monday to Thursday of the week I am in town, I should leave Kaia with her and my dad so that they can get some quality time with her because they never get to see her. She said she is always hurt by me, that she knows I favor Chris’s family bc we spend a month in Australia (she doesn’t seem to remember that Chris’s parents come here and proactively visit us, and that, amazingly, the time spent together is pleasurable, unlike the last two visits my paernts made to New York, when it was total pandemonium and hell for everyone involved).She said I should stop being unfair to her and my dad and at least give them 3-4 days with her while I’m in town to build a relationship with her.

This is the stupidest idea possible. And it’s like she is so divorced from reality that she cannot see what is wrong with this and why Chris and I would never allow this to happen. I pointed out at the last time we came two years ago, it was not enjoyable for anyone because they picked fights with me almost every day I was at the house. When they had the opportunity to have quality time with Kaia, all they did was watch TV and go on random walks and clean random things in the house and then go to additional JW meetings that they didn’t have to go to. They basically ignored the fact that their granddaughter was around. Had she already forgotten they did this? Plus, they wouldn’t even physically be able to care for her. She’s not a baby and will be running around everywhere. They’d never be able to catch up. My mom had this ridiculous idea that she could just “watch” her play all day and do nothing else. Does she think she will sit still that long…? My mom got really angry when I pointed this out and said that she didn’t want to fight; she was tired because she knows she can never win with me bc she knows my bad attitude. It’s always lovely that she’s consistently eager to point out the things I supposedly do to hurt her, but I can never say anything about all the things she and my dad do to hurt me.

I told her, maybe if she actually acted like she wanted us around, maybe if she stopped criticizing me constantly, maybe if she actually was warm and hospitable, maybe I would want us to stay more and longer. But that’s not reality. She didn’t take this message very well. I was able to keep my voice pretty level the entire time, especially since Kaia was there doing poop dance, though of course, she thought I was yelling when I wasn’t. It’s the same crap every time, her “I’m being persecuted and am completely innocent” attitude.

I’m like a broken record. It’s delusional. She’s constantly jealous of someone, in this case, Chris’s parents. And she makes it seem like I’m the one who prevents her and my dad from seeing Kaia. She does pretty much everything to prevent herself from having a relationship with her grandchild. She’s just blind to it all because she is perfect in her eyes, and the rest of us are evil.

I said I’d stay at the house for the two weekends, but I had a schedule. She insisted that I “not go anywhere or see anyone” as per usual and only stay at the house. It’s always about her… no one else matters or is important. No, I won’t stay in her prison. I will stick with the schedule I’ve made and she will just have to suck it up. I’ve changed plans due to her tantrums more than once before, and I will not do it ever again. I’m almost 40 years old. I’m not putting up with her drama anymore.

Cheerios and Quaker Oats linked to reproductive issues – God help us all in America

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Even when you try to be healthy in the U.S., you are still slowly killing yourself.

CBS recently reported a study that a chemical called chlormequat has been detected in 92 percent of non-organic oat-based foods that were tested in May 2023. This includes mainstream foods that many Americans, especially young children, eat, including Quaker Oats and General Mills’ Cheerios. Chlormequat has been found in studies to damage our reproductive systems and to disrupt fetal growth in animals. The chemical is supposed to only be used on ornamental plants only, not on food crops. Yet somehow, the chemical is being used as a growth regulator for the commercial production of grains to make it easier to harvest crops.

It’s deeply unfortunate and horribly infuriating to learn of this news. We are just getting through a 10-pound package of oats that are Quaker brand. We’ve been buying Cheerios for Kaia since spring of last year since Solid Starts had said that of all the “O” cereals available that Cheerios had the highest amount of vitamin/minerals being fortified in it. Even when you are trying to do the right thing by feeding yourself and your children seemingly “healthy” foods, we are still damaging our bodies. It’s like we can’t trust anything in the food supply in this damn country. Now, I need to switch to organic-only oats and an organic version of an “O” cereal – this will obviously be more expensive, but I need to have better peace of mind around this crap. And you know what that means: if only those who can afford it can have healthy, organic, “clean” food, then we’re in a truly screwed up state of this country where the poor and less fortunate are left to suffer.

When feedback is NOT fuel

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We have this theme or saying at work that “feedback is fuel.” We pride ourselves on all having tough enough skin to accept constructive feedback, but it’s also strongly encouraged to the person giving the feedback that they do it in the most helpful, kind way possible. For the most part, I think as a company overall, we do a pretty good job of it. I’ve never received any feedback during my nearly three years here that ever felt like a personal attack or an attack on my integrity, and people generally assume the best intentions here all around. I can’t say that about any other place I’ve ever worked at.

So this morning, I had to tell our nanny that I was disappointed with her notes in our baby log that we ask her to fill out daily for Kaia. In the beginning when she started working here, she was pretty thorough about it. She would record all the things we asked her to: poops, pees, naps, and times for all the above; feeds and the amounts (when she had milk as her only food), then later on, foods she ate (and rejected), any fevers or difficulties. But if you look at the progression of her daily logs, they’ve declined in quality quite drastically: while she has always been consistent about recording poops, pees, and naps, she has stopped recording daily activities, and she’s pretty much never recorded any major milestones, which I told her would be new words, behaviors, or gestures. This previous Friday, the only note for activity was “playground.” The previous days were no better.

This felt unacceptable and a bit insulting, as I knew they didn’t JUST go to the playground. Plus, she told me that Kaia had said two new words: “outside” and “jacket.” So why didn’t she write this down? On top of that, the baby bathtub, which she is supposed to be cleaning weekly, was never cleaned the previous week. I called her out on that earlier in the week, and she said she “just forgot.” Okay, but she had already used that excuse previously when this was supposed to happen on a weekly cadence. Yet she’s been happy to talk on the phone while Kaia naps without this getting done. And over the weekend, when I checked the bathtub, there was not only still grey dirt on the top edges of the tub, but there were even traces of pink mildew, which I ended up scrubbing myself.

I also spent Saturday morning vacuuming under the dining table, the couch, and around the living room rug because there were endless food remnants that literally got everywhere that the nanny somehow had missed. And it really grated on my nerves that her cleaning job could be so sloppy. Why should I be spending my Saturday morning cleaning up after my nanny? I’m paying her to do this job after my child eats!

Well, I never got to addressing the poor floor cleaning. I only addressed the baby log because as soon as I said the notes were “not good” and “needed improvement,” and that “writing ‘playground’ was not enough detail, not everything you did, and doesn’t even cover new words,” she immediately put her face in her hands and started crying. Then, she proceeded to say that I pay her to be here to take care of my child, and she takes care of my child. Yes, I do pay her to take care of my child… which also includes filling out the baby log as we discussed and agreed upon in the contract, which also includes cleaning up after my baby’s meals! I’m not sure how any of this feedback is uncalled for or out of line. I told her that no one is perfect and everyone gets feedback when they work for someone; that is LIFE (for god’s sake, it was so frustrating to even say that out loud to someone who is almost twice my age). She barely responded and just said, “okay.” And that was really it.

I understand why some people are just anti having a nanny. It’s hard having someone that personal to you and your child and your home. There are real feelings to consider literally every single day, and there are also frustrating feelings to consider… like when they don’t think they deserve any negative or constructive feedback at all. In previous times of giving her feedback, she has refused to look me in the eye, she barely responds or says anything, and then she proceeds to avoid me the rest of the day. It’s so exhausting. And it really is completely mystifying to me that she’s so unprepared to receive such basic feedback. It’s not like I told her she tried to kill my child or put her in danger.

Hand foot mouth disease, seriously?

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Chris convinced me to go make an appointment for urgent care, so I saw a doctor this afternoon. Their assistant gave me rapid tests for both COVID and strep, both of which came back negative. I had noticed my throat getting worse this morning, so I took a look at my throat to see if I could see anything. It was absolutely hideous: I had small white blobs lining the back of my throat and tonsils. It hurt even worse today to eat or drink. Even drinking liquids that were more than warm hurt too much. 

After examining me, and looking thoroughly over my hands and feet, the doctor concluded, much to my shock, that I had caught hand foot mouth disease (HFMD). I didn’t even realize that I was also developing tiny red lesions all over my fingertips, but she caught them. It’s a viral illness, so I’d just have to let it run its course. But it was super painful and miserable. I always thought that having Kaia at home with a nanny would prevent her from getting it. But since she was exposed to other kids at the playroom, one of which is in daycare, I guess it was inevitable she’d get it at some point and pass it to me. I finally realized that the tiny red dots around her mouth were actually HFM. At least she didn’t have it too bad, as it lasted about three days and was mostly just a fever for her. Unfortunately, I have not been so lucky. 

The beginning of getting sick, yet again

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On Tuesday night, I went to sleep with a little congestion and the beginning of a sore throat. I figured it was probably just a little cold, so I didn’t think much about it. But on Wednesday morning, I woke up with a worse sore throat, plus body pains everywhere. I tried to let it go, as I thought maybe it was just my more strenuous workout from the previous day. But as the morning progressed, I just felt worse and worse. The body aches became nearly unbearable,  and a splitting headache ensued. I ended up taking the rest of the day off as well as today, as I just had no energy to even sit up. I couldn’t even read an article or keep focus on anything and felt terrible. 

Today, my throat has been getting worse and worse. It’s even started to feel painful when I try to swallow any food, especially anything that isn’t soft. Is this strep throat? I had no idea what was going on or how serious this was.