The good, the bad and the ugly

Today was a mixed bag. It started out pretty rotten, got better, worse then better.

Here is why:

This morning: I awoke with my rib pain at a new level. I have been experiencing some pretty serious pain due to a lot of coughing combined with pregnancy related issues for a couple of weeks now. It has progressively gotten worse. Every time I cough it feels as if I am being stabbed. Okay, so I have never been stabbed before (knock on wood, spit three times), but you get the drift. I took useless Tylenol and got ready for work. It was my day to be in the city, so I headed off, quite slowly to the BART. As I waited for the train to pick me up, I unbuttoned my jacket, to show off my growing belly, thinking that surly this would guarantee me a much needed seat. Wrong-O.

I boarded a packed car. I positioned myself in front of the seats that are reserved for the elderly, disabled and pregnant women. In those seats sat a young woman engrossed in her newspaper and a man hunched over typing away on his Blackberry. Neither of them looked up. Nobody offered me a seat. I stood there coughing now and then and clutching my aching ribs. I am sure I had a scowl on my face. The man's head was inches from my belly, but he would not take his eyes off the blackberry. I was contemplating saying something. Something like, "If you are going to sit in the seats reserved for pregnant ladies and old people, you need to look around every now and then to see if someone actually needs them." But I kept my mouth shut. I didn't want to cause a scene. Minutes away from the stop, the man looked directly at my stomach and stammered "I'm sorry, do you want my seat?" "No" I told him briskly, "My stop is next." "Sorry" he mumbled, and I am guessing he genuinely was, but I didn't feel like letting him off the hook. "It's fine" was all I responded, in the coldest voice I could muster.

I walked at a snail's pace to the office, stopping now and then for another coughing fit. By the time I arrived at work I was in a pretty foul mood. My nose was red, my coffee was cold and I hurt.

But things got better. I got to my desk and found a lovely bouquet of flowers from my employer in honor of my first official week as a Ketchum employee. Sometimes there is nothing like flowers to brighten the day. I was cheered. My boss also invited me to lunch, and we had a nice meal at a nice restaurant. It occurred to me how lucky I am to have landed this job. I like the work, I am proud of the company and my boss is terrific. All good things. I felt happy.

The afternoon: My ribs continued to throb, and the coughing was relentless and embarrassing. I struggled to have professional phone conversations all day. By 2:00 I was wondering why my doctor had yet to return my phone call. I needed to speak with her. I needed help. This hurt too much. I left another message.

By 4:30 I felt and looked like garbage. I knew that I could not make the walk back to the BART station, it would be too painful. My boss gave me a lift. On the train, I was lucky to find a seat, but that didn't stop the ugly, messy tears from flowing....in public. I was frustrated with my doctor, I was overwhelmed with searing pain, I was fed up with feeling miserable. Crying made it worse. I felt weak and vulnerable, and well....stupid. What grown woman cries on the BART?

The tears didn't stop there. As soon as I walked in the door I dissolved into a sobbing mess in front of Lindsay, our nanny. She was wonderful, giving me a hug and offering to drive me to the ER, which I was contemplating since my lousy doctor had yet to return my call.

The evening: Finally at 6:00 the phone rang. A prescription for Vicotin was sent to the pharmacy and by 7:30 I had swallowed two pills. At 8:00 the pain started to subside. Oh HALLELUJAH. Sometimes there is nothing better than simply the absence of agony.

I am now off for (hopefully) a good, peaceful night sleep, and I am praying that tomorrow, it's all good.