#Beyourself, #dadflu, #manflu, #coronavirus, #lifestylechoices, #southsideguylifestyle, #dadbodinevitable, #dadbod, #dabears, #chicago, #southside, #southsidechicago, Coronavirus Southside Chicago, parenting struggles, Yoga Pants

The Moron Twins

One of the symptoms found when you Google coronavirus SHOULD be •acute onset of stupidity•dumb•moronic•

This is a valid & real symptom that no one seems to discuss. The brain fog of covid is no joke. Therefore, I feel compelled to share this with everyone in hopes I can save a few marriages from separation or worst case scenario…murder. 😜

If I was to get married now, post Covid, I would definitely rewrite my vows.

I, (state your name) take you, (lucky bastard) to be my lawfully wedded (husband), to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health*** (see below addendum) , until death do us part.

***Addendum: Questionable. This excludes THE SICKNESS of Covid-19 aka coronavirus. With all due respect Reverend, I can’t be held responsible for this shit show. I will take this up with Lord when my time comes.

Perhaps many have endured the coronavirus as a couple and thought nothing of it. This was not the case for me, as usual.

As I am grateful we all were positive for Covid simultaneously and I was blessed with: 1. Having no sense of smell which came in handy when some were ripping ass left and right.😂

2. Having no taste made eating less enjoyable, (chewing cardboard isn’t much fun; therefore we didn’t eat a lot so no one gained weight.)

3. Initially assuming my feeling like I was hit by a truck, plus paranoia, anxiety and feeling overwhelmed was due monthly hormonal symptoms. I felt guilty for my statements and behavior. Getting diagnosed with coronavirus* gave me permission to be as mean as I wanted but able to use covid as an excuse. 😜. (*oh yea-I had my period and covid at the same time-wtf)

5. Lastly, possessing no memory, decision- making skills or energy: I did NOT have to cook, clean or exercise at ALL for two weeks.

ME: Is this chicken bad?” Kids: “I don’t know. I can’t smell.” ME: “Me neither. I don’t remember how long it’s been in the fridge.” Screw it, let’s get Jimmy John’s…again.

Notice I did not mention husband/father in above example. 👆🏻Unfortunately Dad was unable to leave the bed from April 3rd until April 10th. He was literally knocked.out.cold. by this virus. He dragged self to bathroom to only shower or shit his brains out.

The three of us kinda felt bad for him, however considering all four of us were positive for covid; we would casually joke downstairs about this being “The Dad-Flu”. I showed my kids the parody skits on you tube about the “Man-Flu”.

Us adults received a z-pack and steroids for the bronchial issues. I administered these to him and myself plus vitamins, emergen-c packets, tea, soup etc. I felt better within two days; he was worse. He remained perpetually freezing and bundled up; which led to sweating profusely and changing clothes frequently.

The kids stopped talking to him completely because he wasn’t making any sense. 👆🏻He could not eat because he was so nauseous. After taking famotidine (Pepcid) for 7 days, the nausea finally subsided for Dad, but the chills continued. Wearing a long sleeved underarmour shirt, long sleeved t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, sweatpants, thick socks, yet still freezing…Dad emerged from the bedroom.

So there Dad is, walking in slow motion hooded, unshaven, gaunt and miserable. He resembled the polish version of Eminem.

He kept mumbling to me and when I replied; he could not hear me:

COVID DINNER CONVERSATION. Me: My name is
Him: What?
Me: My name is
Him:Who?
Me: My name is
Him: Huh?
Why can’t you fucking hear me?
Me: My name is
Him: What?Excuse me Me: Just forget it. Meanwhile mumbling under my breath “Stolat” and downing a shot of spiritus.
-Eminem (paraphrased Eminem;)

I make him a dinner plate, tea and ask him if he needs anything else. He shakes his hooded head no. I sit back down, ravenous and start shoveling in the random food.

Him: “Would you get me a knife?”

🤬🤬🤬🤬 We are BOTH positive for COVID sitting at the same table-the same distance from the utensil drawer. This sets me off.

I replied to his knife request, “HOW BOUT I JUST CALL YOU AN AMBULANCE?” Cuz you need to GTFOH.

He replies, “What?” 

I laugh in disbelief, shaking my head at the audacity. I reply softly in an eerie whisper: “Cmon, you can get a knife, it’s five steps.”

Oddly he hears my creepy whisper. He reluctantly stands, walks as if he is walking through water and fetches a knife for himself. 🙄

What I think is happening👆🏻

I give him Alka seltzer cold and he seems to feel a little better. He made a comment about how sick he is and accused me of “Muchasen’s by proxy”. I laughed hysterically at this allegation and think he is turning around. I never wanted him to make fun of me so badly in my life.

This is short lived. He is up all night coughing and gasping for air. I make him wear his sleep apnea machine mask despite his outlandish claims that it makes him sweat more. I threaten him with opening the window. The sheer panic in his face 😬 made me almost feel bad. (Try living with hot flashes year round bitch ass). He surrenders and wears it.

The next morning, when he stands up, he is struggling to breathe. I text my nurse friends and the doctor. All say “If he cannot breathe, bring him to the ER.” I was apprehensive because I haven’t driven or talked to another adult in seven days. I am greeted by security. No sound comes out of my mouth. I have zero recollection of what to say. I blurt out single words like a toddler, “Covid!” & “Wheelchair!” He could not hear, talk or barely walk. Two idiots. 👇🏻

Us on way to the ER👆🏻

In triage, I notice he cannot hear the nurse either. So he was not messing with me. 🤔When he does answer her questions, his answers don’t make sense. Then they bring him back and advise me that I am not allowed to stay because he is a covid patient. A beaming creepy smile 😃 emerged on my face. Hallefuckinglujah I need a break.

I felt guilty for being so happy, but it was overwhelming relief I was not his nurse anymore.

He has an ECG, chest x-ray, cat-scan, & labs; which are all within range. His cat-scan shows the beginning of mild Pneumonia (aka covid lung) which is common for covid. He is discharged with a z-pack, inhaler, and a cough prevention medication with orders of “just let the virus run its course. Keep checking the pulse ox, if it goes below 90, come back.”

He is frustrated and is becoming anxious. The normal, unfortunate reality and fears hit him hard. Fears about about going back to work. Fears about how is he going to function at work. Fears that he is draining his vacation time. The terrible “what if’s” are frightening. I inevitably begin to feel scared as well. Thankfully my defense mechanisms kick in.👇🏻

He is unable to leave the bed again for two more days and is still struggling to breathe. The pulse ox dropped to 88, 82 and 78 when he stood up. His doctor said to go to ER immediately. He is then admitted for five days for double pneumonia. He is discharged and does not seem much better. The nurse and doctor advise that it is “a very slow recovery.”

He was a wreck post hospital, we felt so bad for him. He was so understandably confused. He used four weeks of vacation time. He had to see a pulmonologist. He now has fibrosis, scarring in his lungs, that require nebulizer twice a day still. Obviously compared to many individuals, this is mild and we are lucky.

The point of my discussing this and violating his privacy 😜: He’s 48 years old, no prior medical problems, he does not smoke or drink. He works 12 hour days, goes to bed at 9pm every night even on weekends. He wakes up at 4:30am for work. This is where the WHY comes in. Why did it hit him so hard?

He teases me that I: O.H. (over-hydrate) & O.V. (over-vitamin). 😂 At times he is annoyed with me that I prioritize my mental health and physical health before anyone else; even my kids. I leave the house a mess and go workout first, always. He states that our cabinet looks like a pharmacy:

I see his point, however my outlook is not necessarily the norm around these parts when it comes to health and exercise.

If you ain’t full, you got nothin to give anyone else. Translation:”You cannot pour from an empty beer bottle, guys.”

Kelly Durnelly. Mtg Hooder 1974-2004

Besides being the most tired man in America, he has never been “sick” more than a day as long as I’ve known him. It is very puzzling WHY. Was he just unlucky? Genetics? Stress? I could be 100% wrong, but I do believe some things could have contributed to how bad it hit him. The suggestions made by all the doctor all were to stay ahead of hydration, take vitamins D, C & Zinc daily, and rest/sleep.

Perhaps if some do this before contracting covid, maybe it won’t affect a person as severely. 🤷🏻‍♀️ If you or anyone you know exhibits one-two symptoms on below list, forward this to them immediately. Maybe they will listen to me.

Southside Guy Lifestyle Criteria: 👇🏻

https://quillankelly-dunn.com/2021/05/12/southside-guy-lifestyle/

#freedom, parenting struggles

It’s gonna be…Oh wait… it already is

The last few weeks of April are hell for Justin Timberlake. All the memes and jokes flood social media stating that “It’s gonna be May”. (If you’re not familiar with why he hates May-here

In a *NSYNC song, “It’s gonna be Me”, JT says the word ME in a strange way that sounds like MAY. Despite JT putting himself out there thousands of times and killing it, this one cringey flub consumes all of his massive success and talent every year during the month of May…👈🏻 Here he is, as an adult having to do it…again.

img_5678

I dread May as JT does, however I have no famous memes to remind me, until it is already here, and then I remember. The end-of-the-year-last-minute chaos with all the school functions smashed into four weeks. When all the sports overlap, the parties and the calendar resembles a Tetris game. This game of a calendar is perfectly “NSYNC” 😉 to remind me on the hour that:

I. AM. A. Fucking. Mess.

I.Cannnot.Do.Anything.Right.As.A.Mom.

justin-timberlake-jtimberlake-whitepeoplehumor-i-fucking-hate-may-me-irl-32649878

Every year it gets worse because the kids become wiser, smarter and catch on to how inadequate at this I really am. They remind me every 6 minutes of something I did not do or they need (Mom, you forgot to give me money for this.) Along with, Can we go here? Can we get this? Can we invite this person over on Friday? (It’s Monday). Following the question drill, I continuously put it back on them. Did do you do your homework? Did you study? Did you brush your teeth? Do you have practice? Do you have a game? Did you wipe your ass?

Daily Banter

Kid: “Mom, I asked you to make me something to eat.”

Me: “Yes and I replied …Can’t you make something yourself?”

Kid: “We have no food.”

Me: “Yes we do.”

Kid: “Like what?”

Me: (Grrrrr) Pizza, chicken strips, PBJ, We have Lunchmeat, make a sandwich. Carrots and hummus, chips and guac, apple or banana with peanut butter, string cheese.”

Kid: “I have that everyday, I had that for lunch.”

Me: “I don’t know what to tell ya, figure it out.”

Kid: “You don’t even care.”

Me: (Blood pressure rising) “This isn’t a restaurant. You eat what we have in the house.”

Kid: “Can I have some money then?”

Me: (biting lip/clenching fists) “For what?”

“Kid: “To ride my bike to Subway?”

Me: “Ummmm, NO.  I just named like 10 things we have in the house.”

Kid: “Yea, but I don’t want that.”

Me: “If you don’t “want that” use your own money and go to Subway.”

Kid: “NO! I don’t want to waste my money on that! You’re supposed to feed me.”

Me: (Face getting red) Please leave the room. This discussion is over.”

Kid: “Thanks a lot! You don’t even feed me!”

May: $#&%*@%&$*@&!%#

I am sure we all remember the day when we first realized our mom’s flaws and she really doesn’t know what the fuck she is doing. I remember that day, when I first “saw” my mom without the rose-colored glasses. We all remember when our mom says stuff that makes us cringe. When you realize that she is funny-looking when she is angry and you want to laugh because she looks funny, but you know she’s angry…that realization.

I noticed my mom’s humanness in about 6th grade (same as my daughter, awesome, good times.) I was at school wearing my brown “weskit” uniform vest when I discovered my little brother’s brown socks were static-clung to the inside of my vest. Later on that day, my mom brought my lunch to school for the 45th time that year and finally my classmate asked me, “how come your mom always brings your lunch to school late?”  I never even considered this as weird until someone pointed it out. Then the little realities continued to trickle in and I gradually realized my parents were frauds.

I remembered this “weskit” incident this past Tuesday when I didn’t check the hot lunch schedule and realized that morning my kids did not have lunches; AND we had zero food for them to make their own lunch. They outlandishly claim they told me the night before.

I went to the doctor straight after drop off in the clothes I slept in to get urgent meds for a UTI. I then dragged myself to target to get food, threw it in their lunch boxes and hobbled to the school entrance. Usually when I have had to do this countless times over the years, I am buzzed right in. Not Today.

This time, when I rang the bell, the woman at the front desk said over the intercom outside, “Can I help you?” She didn’t even recognize me! I assume she thought I was some homeless lunatic; not that I blame her. She even asked me my last name and kids names. Huh? Doncha know may?

This incident triggered the downward spiral of me screwing up over and over every few minutes: at work, at home, at school, with my kids, with my friends, and with my family. It was as if I turned into Mr. Bean overnight, again! Everything I touched, said or did turned to shit. #theshittouch

Which you know how that goes; the more you think about it, the more it happens. I could not snap out of it.

Today was exceptionally brutal and I could not even consider anything I usually do to end this tailspin of humiliation.I wanted to blame someone for the self-created web of hell I got myself into. I woke up late, I made about 700 mistakes before noon, was tardy for every patient appointment (I mean how can every ramp be closed at once on 90/94?) and all I could think about was crawling back into bed and hiding under the covers.

This fantasy was interrupted when my daughter called because I did not pick them up from school. I knew I wouldn’t be able to, BUT I forgot to arrange a ride. Then I receive a text about something I volunteered for at school which I had no recollection of until that moment. For the love of God! Please leave MAY alone!

I sheepishly go see another patient, (husband and wife married 60 years, who primarily speak Ukranian and Russian; they insist on not using a translator. They say “We want to try to speak to you in your language.”)I was ready to thank them for their patience with my inadequacy. Instead, I am greeted with a hug and exclaimed, “We are so glad to see you!”

(I turn around thinking there was someone else behind me.)

They continue, “We are very happy! This is a big day in our country!”

They both describe why they are so happy, adorably, in their accents and broken English about Victory Day. I am ashamed to admit that I did not know what they were referring to.

Wife: “In your country, May 8th, 1945, the war over. On May 9th, 1945.. the war over in my country. I remember I was so happy. It was so long. I was four years old when war started, my parents tell me we must move to Siberia. It was so cold there. Me, my brothers and sisters would lay down on the floor with head in knees, so scared, hearing planes. My mother would hide bread high up so we not find it and give us a tiny piece once a day. We so hungry, we beg my mom everyday for more. We were so cold. We were so scared.” Tears glaze over her eyes, her husband holds her arm. My eyes well up now. “My husband, he had to go to Siberia too and wait for war to be over, not us together (she laughs nervously), but he had to do same.”

Husband: “Yes. Excuse me. I go. Same.” (He Shakes head, becomes choked up.)

Wife: “So every year, this day, we are very happy. We thanks God. We hear on the radio, war over, my mother, my father, my brothers, sisters, we hug, we cry, we thanks God. We can go home. We remember everyone who die.” She holds her hand to her chest, does sign of the cross and looks up.

Husband: “Excuse me. We want you to have this. We are happy you and your family do not have to have war. Please. Take. We happy today.” (He says excuse me before he says anything in english, it’s so cute!)

Culturally, it is very rude not to accept gifts in their country and they insist on giving me European chocolate after each visit. Today was, well, above and beyond. I imagine if I refuse to take it, he may react the same way the Ukrainian man in the Seinfeld episode reacts to the game of risk when Kramer refers to the Ukraine as “weak”.

ukraine gif

This Seinfeld clip of the Ukraine makes me laugh, finally. I walk to my car holding candy, feeling humble, grateful, tearful and smiling. That visit knocked me right out of my tailspin. I thought about her mother, in fucking Siberia (for real) for three years! I thought about her trying to keep her family alive and having to give her kids a quarter slice of bread per day.  I thought about the guilt she felt when her children complained of being terrified, hungry, bored, and cold every day for three years. Now that is some real motherhood struggles right there. I feel foolish now for even being stressed. None of it matters.

I am back to loving life while being a jack ass. 

I thanks God too.

All the stuff I was dealing with is nonsense.

It’s Insignificant.

It’s Motherhood.

img_5675

And Justin Timberlake…he’s a bad ass.

Justin

And the Ukraine is sure as hell not weak.

https://youtu.be/lZfJ1ZP3Ywg