Flu in the Coop
Half of Sean's 1st grade class was out today. There are 15 in the class and even considering that one of them is visiting relatives in India, 7 missing is a lot. And I'm in fear just a tad today because I already have one who has fallen, one who is groaning in bed. He has the whole gamut from puking to coughing, from aches to dizziness, sore throat to fever.
So today I have been battening down the hatches, doing laundry, straightening, cleaning to make sure we're ready just in case. And I've been doing all that while ignoring the ache in the back of my neck.
Our trip to the doctor's office this morning was nothing short of pitiful. Seth came downstairs with the most horrible expression on his face, like he'd been beaten and then made to drink buttermilk mixed with liver. He was wearing a stretched out long sleeved pajama top inside out and a pair of soccer shorts. Bare feet. And he sat at the kitchen table on the verge of tears. When I told him to get dressed he said, on the verge of tears, I don't want to wear jeans and when I looked, they were all Luke's pants. I wish there were a font that could show extreme pitifullness. So I got a pair of sweats for him and a sweater, he slipped his feet into Birkies and we left. He could barely walk and laid the seat flat and fell asleep for the 4 block drive.
When we got in he captured the attention of all the waiting patients because he looked like death on a stick. We sat for a few minutes and I stood to get a magazine. "MOM! I need a drink of water!" Where, honey, I don't see- "Ask the desk! I need water!" There were cups in the bathroom, so I got him a drink as everyone stared. Then we went in.
He could barely navigate the hall or the directions from the nurse. He ended up on the end of a bed and she took his blood pressure after which he announced that his stomach didn't want that water any longer. The nurse got a plastic tub, Seth filled it and I emptied it.
Then the doctor came in and did all the poking, prodding, listening, peering, questioning and came up with a diagnosis. The flu. He seemed to know it when he saw it. Seth just lay on the bed falling back asleep. The doc left to write a scrip and I rubbed Seth's head, his eyes were closed and he mumbled something...I thought it was important...I leaned in..."I hate it when someone talks to me with something in his mouth." The doc had a lozenge in his mouth while he talked to Seth. I didn't notice it, but it had jumped on Seth's last frayed nerve. I said, "Well the doctor probably doesn't like people puking in his office, honey."
We got what we wanted, a note for school, and we left. He's been asleep ever since. I've been spending too much time wondering who's next. I don't want it to be me, by the way, I've decided.
(my head hurts)
So today I have been battening down the hatches, doing laundry, straightening, cleaning to make sure we're ready just in case. And I've been doing all that while ignoring the ache in the back of my neck.
Our trip to the doctor's office this morning was nothing short of pitiful. Seth came downstairs with the most horrible expression on his face, like he'd been beaten and then made to drink buttermilk mixed with liver. He was wearing a stretched out long sleeved pajama top inside out and a pair of soccer shorts. Bare feet. And he sat at the kitchen table on the verge of tears. When I told him to get dressed he said, on the verge of tears, I don't want to wear jeans and when I looked, they were all Luke's pants. I wish there were a font that could show extreme pitifullness. So I got a pair of sweats for him and a sweater, he slipped his feet into Birkies and we left. He could barely walk and laid the seat flat and fell asleep for the 4 block drive.
When we got in he captured the attention of all the waiting patients because he looked like death on a stick. We sat for a few minutes and I stood to get a magazine. "MOM! I need a drink of water!" Where, honey, I don't see- "Ask the desk! I need water!" There were cups in the bathroom, so I got him a drink as everyone stared. Then we went in.
He could barely navigate the hall or the directions from the nurse. He ended up on the end of a bed and she took his blood pressure after which he announced that his stomach didn't want that water any longer. The nurse got a plastic tub, Seth filled it and I emptied it.
Then the doctor came in and did all the poking, prodding, listening, peering, questioning and came up with a diagnosis. The flu. He seemed to know it when he saw it. Seth just lay on the bed falling back asleep. The doc left to write a scrip and I rubbed Seth's head, his eyes were closed and he mumbled something...I thought it was important...I leaned in..."I hate it when someone talks to me with something in his mouth." The doc had a lozenge in his mouth while he talked to Seth. I didn't notice it, but it had jumped on Seth's last frayed nerve. I said, "Well the doctor probably doesn't like people puking in his office, honey."
We got what we wanted, a note for school, and we left. He's been asleep ever since. I've been spending too much time wondering who's next. I don't want it to be me, by the way, I've decided.
(my head hurts)
Comments
Combined we missed 9 days of well-paying work.
Ugh!