Yesterday I went with the boys to get their flu shots and to catch up on well check appointments where they got reminded that candy is not ok and veggies matter. Brevitt is in the 90th percentile for height and 50th percentile for weight, my tall skinny kid.
As the boys sat there whimpering about their shots I slowly felt myself crumbling into an achy, shivering mess. Brevitt’s good friend had just had Swine Flu and his mother told me that I had all the symptoms.
I begged for the Doctor to test me but she declined my request stating that I was not eligible for diagnosis since I was not over 65, didn’t have asthma, or heart or lung disease, wasn’t a diabetic and was not obviously in need of emergency care, “yeah not yet you incompetent fool”, I thought to myself! I imploringly asked her what the logic of that was? Wouldn’t it make more sense to test those that have the symptoms so that they don’t innocently walk around infecting the world? After all the hype about THE DREADED SWINE FLU I was in disbelief that they weren’t locking me up in chains and throwing me into the flu contamination room to be quarantined.
Later that evening, Wade was gone on his manly Wednesday night bike ride and the kids immediately saw an open window recognizing that I was in no condition to parent them. We all agreed that a movie was in order, regardless that it was a school night. We may not watch a whole lot of television in our house but we are passionate about our movies, even Tucker sits through the most sophisticated of movies asking sweet, innocent questions that I try to discourage by teaching him that movies are sacred and must not be interrupted.
We put on the movie and snuggled in together. Axel’s hand was on my forehead, Tucker was draped across my lap and Brevitt’s big puppy dog body was sprawled out on the only coach in the room. My throat was on fire, my body ached and my nose was quickly draining every last bit of mucus out of my body but I was happy to be with my boys in a dark room watching a Hugh Grant flick that my mother had recommended. I was to sick to worry that the content may not be appropriate. Even though I adore my mother and I cannot see a movie or open a book without calling her for the review, her choices, at times, have been questionable like when Axel came home after an evening at his cousins house with Grandma and told me that they had watched a movie about a little boy who sees dead people.
Wade came home at the stroke of midnight to find me wide awake with the shivers worrying that either he had hit another tree and was laying unconscious in the cold wilderness or, even worse, was having an affair. He laughed at me when I told him that I was dying from the Swine Flu while he was out cavorting.
When we first got married I told him that I never wanted to be a burden on the family if I became a vegetable. We agreed that unless he felt a signal from me to show that I was somewhat with it he could let my lifeline go but if I lightly squeezed his hand once it meant keep me going. If I squeezed his hand twice it meant that I loved him and was still cognizant and if I blinked my eyes and squeezed his hand it meant don’t even think of leaving me.
Our joke now is that he confuses the signals. As he walked out of the room last night he bent his head back around the corner and asked, “wait, does one squeeze mean pull the plug?”
We all know that there is a huge difference between men and women when they get sick and Wade’s interpretation was revealed when he called to check in on me today. “Are you resting”, he asked full well knowing the answer. He told me that I was very funny last night preparing for my untimely death. He mocked me in his fake British accent, “I just need to set up the 529 plan for the boys so that they can go to college before I pass”. He pointed out that when he gets sick he sleeps until the sickness goes away but when I get sick I pay the bills, make the meals and make sure that all my ducks are in a row in the mere chance that I may have to go to the hospital for an unlimited amount of time.
Arriving at school incognito I saw my reflection in the window and was mortified to see that I looked like I just left my gang to pick up my kid with my aviator glasses, knit hat, holey jeans, Converse sneakers and huge boyfriend sweater. I slinked away observing all the other well dressed mothers in their knit kilts, high boots and stylish sweaters. The boys and I went home to watch another movie and drink hot cups of tea.
I am grateful that I don’t get sick more often but what I am truly most grateful for is Netflix and kids who love movies!
I hope you are feeling better soon – whatever this is! And boy you are right about mom’s have to keep going when they are sick, men stay in bed! I can remember being ill and on crutches at the same time with no help and two little kids. Amazing how we plow on!
Do you pick up at the same school i do, kilts??Hope you are feeling better…
Boy, does this bring back memories of getting the flu when my boys were young. Hope you feel better soon. Maybe I should send you my Michelin-Man coat!