Today is the last day of January, I think. I could be wrong. I won’t be sad to see this month pass. We finished the month with an epic battle of stomach flu. On Sunday N wouldn’t stop throwing up, so M took him to the emergency room. The “ER call” is always a tough one. You never know if you’re worrying too much, if the illness isn’t a big deal, or if you should toss the kid in the car and drive. M had talked with nurses beforehand, N was listless, and M pulled the trigger. She made the right choice. Apparently N’s bicarbonates were out of whack. I have no idea what that means, but apparently Gatorade doesn’t help. The doctors ran an IV through him. He arrived home by 9:00PM or so. I slept on the futon next to T’s bed. At 12:22AM (I remember the exact time because I turned to look at the clock as I woke) T threw up all over his bed. I moved him onto the futon, made sure he was ok, and moved downstairs. By this time I could feel the flu settling into my stomach as well. I will spare you the gory details. I will only say I lost five pounds in three days. After sending some emails, preparing for missing Monday at work, I tried to get some sleep. M later informed he threw up late at night as well. S is somehow impervious to illness. He’s unbreakable. I can’t explain it. M was feeling better at that point, so she left for a student teaching thing while S, N and I watched television. I truly felt like shit. I could hardly rise from the couch. You know the feeling, when you have to say to yourself, “I will now get up and turn off that light” over and over again to generate the energy to complete the act? That kind of sick. After M arrived home, after lunch, I slept through most of the afternoon. By last night I didn’t feel much better, but I tried some yogurt and a bagel. I didn’t barf it up. Good sign. T and I slept next to each other in the big bed while M slept with S and N. T’s such an amazing boy. He truly does everything he can to do the right thing. I love him so much.
Today was a bit better. I woke at four and answered fifty emails by 6:00AM. You know, I don’t know if this whole going to the office thing is necessary. I work just as hard on my sick days as otherwise. I thought about going to the office, but every time I stood my stomach protested. Also, I found out two other people from work were sick today, and I didn’t want to spread my illness all over the floor (literally or figuratively). I took in a couple phone conferences, corresponded on the computer on and off, and took a bath. Baths rock when you’re sick. Tonight I’m not completely tired, but I’m fatigued enough to hope I sleep well. Tomorrow I want to work on the dissertation at the coffee shop. I’m making slow progress.
I need to back up a little and talk about calling in sick. I don’t deal well with illness, and I deal even worse with skipping work. Yesterday was truly awful. The sun never emerged, and I thought, while half-asleep, about all the people who don’t have insurance or sick days or whatever. This world could be a great place, but it isn’t. You know, I’ve been looking for that sentence all day, probably for longer, and there it is, as simple as can be. Mary keeps telling me I’m in the midst of a hero quest, a change, an evolution, and maybe that’s part of it. What’s my role in that? Why isn’t the world a great place? Teach me how not to want. Teach me to transcend worrying about making sure the boys get enough Christmas presents. Teach me to live on what we have. Suddenly I feel better even writing that sentence. This world could be a great place, but it isn’t. More later. Good night. Cold as hell out there.