I need to feel sorry for myself for a minute...am I allowed?

Despite the fact that I acquired Jack's stomach flu on New Year's eve, I felt so blessed that I had my husband there to take care of me and take over duties with Jack. Jack was cared for and didn't have to be re-exposed (if that is possible) to the awful stomach bug. I was in Lexington when I got sick so Sam brought Jack back to Illinois a day ahead of me. I stayed behind at my mom's to recover one more day. (Bless her heart, she and Don both came down with it as well.) I know the baby is getting what he needs, so it doesn't concern me a great deal that I didn't eat anything but saltines for 36 hours. None of this detailed background is why I am feeling sorry for myself.

I had a doctors appointment for today, 9am, just in time to get there after putting Jack on the bus. I'm cruising along in St. Louis when I see signs that I-64 is closed three miles ahead. I had heard on the news of this closure, but I live in Illinois and don't feel that such matters affect me. WRONG! I have no idea what to do; my exit is beyond this closure. I call the drs. office and some nice young guy, Dave, is trying to give me directions. I get lost. I'm in parts of St. Louis I know aren't safe. I'm having contractions (the fake kind), I'm crying because I'm supposed to have my glucose test first, then see the doctor. I have to be back in Illinois to get Jack off the bus at 11:05 on-the-dot. This young man on the phone is listening to me cry and complain. He's nice and calm. When I think I'm on the right track, it turns out I'm not. I have no family here, no one to get Jack for me if I don't make it back in time. I'm a stay-at-home mom and the only babysitter I know is a 12-year-old girl down the street that goes to school during the day. When I finally find a street that is familiar, I take it (the wrong way) trying to return to the interstate. . . to go home. I rescheduled my appointment and now I have to stress about doing this again tomorrow; finding my way through a closed highway and returning in time to get Jack off the bus. Don't you feel sorry for me? I just want to feel sorry for myself for a few minutes. I realize it could be worse and that there are a million people that have it a million times worse than I do. I just want to be down and mad and not feel guilty about it.