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.