Higher Power

I have proof that there is a higher power.

Yesterday, I returned home from work at 5 to find my almost-comatose husband on the couch muttering something about a fever while my 2 year-old ran circles around him, giddy with freedom. It became quickly apparently that Jamie had to get to bed, immediately. I groaned inwardly (and realistically, I probably groaned outwardly too). I have only known the love of my life to be sick (REALLY sick), twice since 1996; had we not lived through 2 years with a child together, I would not have known the man could operate a thermometer.

I will NEVER leave my husband. If any of you doubted that, rest assured that I do NOT intend to parent alone. Not on purpose. Not if I have anything to do with it. Duncan and I survived cooking and feeding him dinner, navigating bath time (barely), and reading stories accompanied by milk...at one point, the three-tiered basket of produce collapsed in the kitchen. Duncan ate grape tomatoes off the dirty floor and laughed hysterically while he took a huge bite out of a plum tomato, all while I attempted to clean smashed avocado and sweet potato from the floor. But my night had just begun. Quickly followed the dish washing and a trip out for sick food. I listened with one ear to the numbers falling out of my husband's mouth: "100.7;" "101;" "101.2." Finally, at 9 we had a quick dinner (jello, soup, and frozen fruit for him; microwave Hot Pockets and Triscuits for me), and I got ready for bed. During the quiet moments while I brushed my teeth, I dared to think the night had not been as bad as I expected.

I crawled into bed, and slowly the numbers began to acquire meaning. While I was running through our evening routine, my husband, who had taken Tylenol, Motrin, and Aleve between 3:30 and 9:00, had been frying in bed. My stoic husband, who never gets sick, never complains, and never worries about anything, uttered these words: "I'm starting to get scared." The number 102 began to hold meaning for me (I neglected to hear the "point 6" appended to it). We researched how hot you have to get before worrying about the emergency room, and I asked him if he would feel better if he called the emergency room. He said "I'd feel better if I WENT to the emergency room. Is there anyone we can call to take care of Duncan?"

Grandpa arrived at around 10:45; we checked in to the emergency room at around 11:00. Long story short, the nurse and on-call doctor spent 3 hours taking two throat cultures and a blood sample and getting Jamie's temperature back to normal. So far, the flu test was negative, the rapid strep was negative (though it's on its way for a 3 day culture, whatever that means), and then they sent out a Lyme test for that pesky critter we picked up on the Rail Trail two weeks ago. It could just be a random virus.

I was thankful that my husband was not frying his brain, but the thought of surviving a full day of work AND ANOTHER NIGHT LIKE LAST NIGHT on 3 1/2 of sleep made me physically ill (though it might have been the three cups of coffee that made me physically ill). I actually put off going to pick up Duncan this afternoon because I didn't want to see what awaited me at home.

This is my proof that there is a higher power. Jamie still has a wicked sore throat, but he hasn't had any fever all day. He felt well enough to watch Duncan while I cooked dinner and then managed the bath. I have had time to eat food with nutrition, iron my clothes for tomorrow, and write about the everyday excitements of domestic life. The evening's hero remains Grandpa, who drove 45 minutes to sit with Duncan at 11 p.m. and headed home at 2 a.m. I don't want to have another night like last night for a long time, but it's nice to know you can weather a little storm, get up the next day, and appreciate all that you usually take for granted. A few more numbers for my unusually digit-heavy blog...98.6. Thank Mr./Mrs. Higher Power for the lovely, uneventful day that was today.

Be It Ever So Humble

We all survived our longest separation yet (two nights). I had pangs as we drove away from Poughkeepsie, leaving Duncan in the capable hands of his grandparents. There was a tiny hole in my heart where I could sample what it would feel like not to have him; I didn't dwell there longer than necessary. I think that all Jamie and I did for two days was sleep and eat (I didn't even knit so there was NO progress on the sage green mystery garment); it was strange not to be tired. I realized that I use tiredness as an excuse for virtually everything, and when it is removed from the equation, I have to think a little bit harder about my motivations. Contrary to my hopeful longings, it did NOT feel like Bermuda when we returned. It is rainy and gloomy, but the spring bulbs are definitely working theirway up toward the unseen sun.

Duncan was an angel for Grandpa and Grandma Martin, but he was excited to see us on Wednesday. That is a hug I will carry with me for a long time...until it is replaced by another so memorable. What's interesting is that Duncan spent the next 24 - 48 hours testing the limits of his parents - as if he wanted to see if the rules had changed in our absence, or if we had been replaced by pod people. I think all is back to normal now. We are being protected by the Little People Professional and Volunteer Fire Brigade today.