Thursday, March 6, 2008

I really hate it when my kids are sick.

I mean, I truly loathe and detest it. It makes me totally stressed, it upsets my stomach, keep me up at night and it fills my mind with endless worry until they are well again.

Evan sat near me on the couch Tuesday night, like he does most nights. He told me his head hurt. I asked him hurts how? His answer was something like “it feels like there is a banging in my head”. Now to my knowledge Evan has never had a headache, so I was guessing that he had a headache and this was the way he was relaying it to me. He then leaned against me and his body felt like it was on fire. Out came the thermometer…102. temp. Not good.

I have been lucky over these past 11 years with Evans health. He has been sick only once. He had pneumonia in kindergarten. He had just turned 5 years old; he was so very tiny and vulnerable. I remember him lying on the couch at my parents house, all of us trying to get him to drink something, every time we tried to get him to drink he shook his head no whatever it was. Finally he asked for “bunny milk”. My Dad was about near a breakdown at this point and was frantically asking what bunny milk was? “It’s Nesquick chocolate milk” I told him. “He calls it bunny milk cause, well there’s a bunny on the bottle and that’s what 5 year olds do”. My Dad raced out of the house to the nearest convenience store and came running back in with 2 containers of “bunny milk”. There we were, three grown adults hovering over a 5 year old, watching to see if milk was going to travel up the straw that was dangling between his little lips. This is what sickness does to us in my family. We are not proud of it. It is just the way we are.


Evan recovered from that illness obviously, but we found ourselves back at the doctors for our 2nd sick visit in 11 years yesterday. He still had a fever, no appetite and he was so lethargic that he almost fell asleep on the examining room table. The doc sent him over to the hospital to have a test done for the flu, which we found out this morning came back negative, but my poor baby is still running a high temp, is now coughing up a storm and just looks so pathetic that it’s breaking my heart to see him like this. What I wouldn’t do to take all that sickness upon myself.

I think a big part of all this is that illnesses messes up my routine, and those of you who know me know I like my routine and I very much dislike things that interfere with it. When my routine is broken I am mentally and physically a wreck. I am utterly and totally a creature of habit and a terrible worrier when it comes to my children’s health. Luckily I have my Mom with him during the day and she attends to his every whimper, but I hate that I can’t be at home with him, making sure his Gatorade is filled, and he’s got his favorite blanket, and his toast is buttered just how he likes it. Working for a living sucks.

Last night after I frantically threw together dinner, packed lunches, did laundry, cleaned up, checked Jesse’s homework, etc, etc (Moms you what I’m talking about), I just stood in the kitchen and cried. I was so stressed out and so filled with worry that I just lost it, right there in the middle of kitchen.

This morning I was at the doctors and was given 6 shots of steroids under my right arm. (I have a disease for those of you who don't know, long story, trust me you don’t want to hear it). As this new doctor sat and very nicely described the new treatment that she thought I should be on, I found myself sitting there thinking about how pitiful Evan looked when I left this morning, and how I hoped when I called home my Mom would say his fever was down. I was not paying attention to a word she was saying, so I kind of looked up at her with this blank stare on my face and apologized and blurted out that my son was sick, I that I was waiting for the pediatrician to call me back, and how I almost cancelled the appointment cause it was just one more thing on my to do list and I was about at my wits end. My doctor told me she understood and kindly repeated everything she had told me moments before and reminded me that stress worsens my condition. Wonderful.

Here’s hoping Evan is better soon, that Jesse doesn’t catch it and that I calm down.
Post a Comment