I take care of sick people for a living. Really sick people. But there's just something about your child looking at you with red-rimmed eyes and feverish cheeks that makes me feel helpless.
I could tell it was coming last night. He was lethargic and laid on the couch, when usually he is Mr. Talk-a-lot in the evenings. He said he had a headache, and admitted to falling asleep during Social Studies at school- "But we were just watching a movie...". He went to bed without any procrastination and was out like a light in minutes-the hair on the back of my neck promptly prickled.
Sure enough, the all-too universal sound of "Moooommm!" woke me up at 5 AM. I could tell by the resonance of my name that he was calling for me from within the bowl of the toilet. Yep. There was last night's dinner, but at least it was contained and flushable. He was burning up with fever, so Tylenol, water, and a cool washcloth were my allies before I put him back to bed.
He slept until past noon, and only woke up because I was rubbing oils on his feet. I had gotten my order of essential oils this morning (can you believe the timing), and I was trying to get a load of Oregano, Lemon, and On Guard oils into his system. He took two sips of water, and promptly ran into the bathroom to throw them right back up. Afterward, when I made him blow his nose, what looked like Quikrete came gushing out.
Crap.
He made it to the couch, where I put him under an electric blanket and tried to get more water and now Advil in him. He ate some Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and asked for me to put Diary of a Wimpy Kid in the DVD. "OK", I thought. "We're making progress."
He was back asleep within 15 minutes. He woke up over two hours later and went to the bathroom, then made a beeline back to his bedroom again. I put peppermint oil on his head, and Breathe oil on his chest, and loaded more Tylenol in him.
Another three hours later, He woke again with a headache. But his eyes were clearer and his face was less flushed. When I asked him why he had changed clothes, he said that he had sweated through his other pajamas and they were soaked.
Some good news maybe....
He felt a little better still after I convinced him to take a shower and brush his teeth, and managed to get a whole glass of Sprite down. He only picked at crackers, but I was relieved that he seemed to be more himself. Television, video games, and my Ipad held no appeal though, and he climbed back into his bed (now with fresh sheets). Another round of oils from head to toe, vaporizer running in his room, and Sudafed before allowing him to once again close his eyes.
Poor bugger. Let's just hope he's not wide awake at three in the morning after sleeping all day...
Tonight's picture represents a mom's arsenal and diligence on mending one of her own. I am thankful to have these tools at my disposal, and am aware that so many mothers around the world are not so lucky. I think most of us can remember our own mother's weapons- at our house it was Vick's vaporub, hot water bottles, nasty-tasting cough syrup, as well as grilled cheese with tomato soup and saltines when I started feeling better. I have a single, nasty memory involving a hot water enema at one point, but I seem to have blocked most of that one out....
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