After having a meltdown over my mother and daughter asking me to go pick up food, again, I got to talk to Malcolm, who had his own bad news to deliver. His baby momma was hospitalized this week, and he was down in Boston taking care of his kids, and most likely not able to make it back to Maine until Monday, the 27th. I knew after he said that, and I told him I didn't think I'd make it to the party this weekend anyways that our whole weekend, and the weeks of work I put into the costumes was totally wasted.
So I scraped my ass out of the house, and went to the ER to get checked out before my damn face blew up, and sure as hell, I have an infection. Not just any mundane one though, I have a cellulitis infection. I've had one of those before and they suck in the extreme. They are tenacious as hell, can become extremely dangerous if left untended, and require a severe course of antibiotics that literally feels like poison is coursing thru your system. 2000 Mg's A DAY! of this antibiotic. Unreal.
I cried when I emailed Len & Julia. Such a silly thing for me to do, I know, in the face of my health and Malcolm's family. But we'd both been looking forward to it SO MUCH. Whatever. I'm pretty fresh back from the ER, and exhausted as hell. My daughter has the "nasty burps", and I'm holding out going to bed waiting to see if she's gonna hurl or not. I sincerely hope not because as weak as my stomach is feeling right now from the Keflex, I'd probably be right there with her fighting for the bowl. I miss Malcolm, I just want his reassuring arms around me holding me and keeping me warm. I can't think of anything more comforting than laying my head on his chest and listening to the steady pulse of his heart. It was the only position, on Tuesday, that I could lay my head and not have a stitch of pain. Maybe he's magic like that. I guess I just can't believe we'll miss Halloween.
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