Doesn’t it seem that just when it feels you get into a
little bit of routine in life, things are going along at a good pace, there are
no major issues, that something comes along to throw it all out of kilter? It seems that our life is like that in a
cycling basis. As I was watching one of
my favorite shows the other night (Downton Abbey) the matriarch of the family,
Lady Grantham said “All life is a
series of problems which we must try and solve.
First one, then the next, and the next.
Until at last we die.” I thought
to myself “That old lady sure knows a thing or two.”
We were plugging
along a couple of weeks ago when Jackson woke up throwing up. No biggie.
I thought it was the too spicy chile I had fed him that night. Nope. It
was the flu. A few days of throwing up, were
followed with a few days of diarrhea, promptly followed by a sneezing and a
bugger nose. In the midst of the puking
stage I caught a cold. Of course as the
puking was ending and the diarrhea beginning, Kevin had to go Canada for 4 days
for work. So I have a cold, Jackson has
the flu, Kevin leaves town and it’s a Friday night. Valentine’s day actually. As the kids and I are hanging out in the
living room I notice that the purple gel sticker (about an inch big) that
Sylvia stuck on the window for Jackson to look at is no longer on the window,
which Jackson was currently pounding on.
Frantically Sylvia, Daniel and I begin searching for said sticker. It’s no where to be found. We deduce that Jackson may have swallowed
it. I call the after hours doctor
hotline. They say to go to urgent
care. I call urgent care, they are
closing. They say go to the ER. Seriously??!!
Of course in the midst of all that chaos our credit card calls to say
someone is using our card in Canada. The
automated system is slow and wants to clear every purchase since god knows
when. I can’t handle it and just hang
up. We load into the car and head to the
ER. Where we wait. And wait.
And wait. Although they have
taken us to a room, they seem to have forgotten us. Jackson is only patient for so long, then the
yelling begins. And my patience takes a
nosedive. I’ve had enough. I feel like crap, so does Jackson, Sylvia and
Daniel are fighting over which chair to sit in, and I start thinking about
taking up drinking again. Damnit, if
only I liked the taste of alcohol! So I
do what any hysterical woman does. I get
my phone out, call the hospital I am in, ask for the children’s ER where we are
and when someone answers I say “Hey! I’m
in room 104, the one with the screaming kid, is it too much to ask to have
someone come in here and check out my kid?!”
I know, I’m a bitch, but it made me laugh and feel good. And within a minute we had someone come
in. Of course he was snotty and looked
at Jackson and said “I see you have special circumstances” but explained that
they are very busy. Now let me tell you,
if Daniel and Sylvia hadn’t been in that room I may have punched that guy. My kid is not “special circumstances”. But I had to let it go. I argued with him a bit and he left. Seconds later someone who had some kind of
authority came in and the ball got rolling.
Within 45 minutes we were out of there with a final diagnosis of - sticker
wasn’t toxic so if he did swallow it, he will just poop it out, nothing else
can be done. All that hassle for
nothing! We got home, went to bed and
the next day Jackson’s diarrhea arrived.
What a fun weekend! Just when
Jackson started getting better, Sylvia got the stomach bug. She bounced back fairly quickly though. Then Daniel got it. He bounced back fairly quickly too but is
still battling the ensuing cold.
A week after our fun
excursion to the ER I had surgery. Nothing
major but enough to ensure I needed to take it easy for a few days. I’m slowly recovering and getting back to normal. The worst part is that I can’t lift Jackson
for 2 weeks. We are lucky and fortunate
enough to have a caregiver for Jackson for that 2 weeks. I have many times wished I was rich enough to
hire a nanny to do all the day to day hard work it requires to care for
Jackson. This past week I have
essentially had one. Surprisingly, I
hate it. I don’t like not being able to
do the everyday things I do. It’s a lot
of work, but I like to do it. I know I should
enjoy the 2 weeks and let my back have a break from all the lifting, but I’m having
a little trouble with letting go of that routine and daily life I am used to. I know, I’m a control freak. The good news is that we are all making our
way to healthy. Now I will just wait
around for the next problem to solve.
