I hate being sick. Being sick is such a waste of valuable time. As appealing as spending a whole day in bed sometimes is, when you have a kid that isn't going to happen, so that brings us back to sick=a big old miserable waste of time. As much as I hate being sick myself, I hate when Dylan is sick even more.
He's been remarkably healthy so far in his young life, so it always catches me off guard. I suddenly feel helpless, and unable to make the simplest decision. Do I let him sleep through dinner, or wake him up and try to get him to eat something? If he still has a fever after I give him one dose, how soon can I give him another? I could go on and on. I usually end up calling MY mommy.
He's had "the sniffles" for almost a month. I figured there was no point in taking him to the doctor's because they would just say "cold", and send us home with more germs than we had before going in.
But Monday, he started coughing too. The only appointment they had was at 4pm, so I took it. We went to the library in the morning to get new books, then came home for a nap before the appointment.
The snow started on our way there. We waited for 40 minutes before seeing the doctor. I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn't laugh, when the doctor strolled in completely unapologetic, and Dylan said, "You know, that was a long time to wait!" I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the end of the appointment, when he said, "Doctor? You forgot something... You didn't do the hammer thing on my knee to make my leg go ... BOING!"(jerking his leg up).
Luckily, the doctor agreed to call in an antibiotic. Unluckily, the snow was so bad by then, that I couldn't stop to pick it up. A drive that normally takes 20 minutes, took us 1 hour!
Yesterday, Dylan was in a semi-zombie state. He slept and sat staring into space and moaning, "I'm really sick". It's a bit unnerving when a kid who normally cannot be still, and cannot stop talking is suddenly comatose on the couch.
Today he threw up twice, and slept a lot, but he also talked and played some. I knew he was getting back to his normal self when he started asking me the kind of questions that have us going in circles, and me thinking I should look for a dictionary. We were reading a book and it said, "Some things are worth waiting for". "What's "worth"?, he asked. "Ummm, they mean that it was okay to wait, because it ended up being so much fun". "But, what's "worth"? "Um... the value you put on something". "What's value?" "How much something is worth to you... Errr, I mean.... Sigh...let me get a dictionary". So, yea, things are getting back to normal. Maybe we'll even leave the house sometime this week?