(Jack at age 2)
Jack has been sick this week. It started on Tuesday night where he and I stayed up until the sun rose. He slept in and then woke up to a fever of 105 degrees. I called aunt Jenny to see if she could get him in for another Xray, fearing that the magnet he swallowed last week was causing blockage, therefore causing the fever and stomach pains he was having. After the Xray showed no signs of the magnet (phew!), and conversations with his nurse on the phone, I came to the conclusion that he had the same 24 hour flu bug that hit me in full force last weekend. I confirmed that conclusion when he lost his entire stomach full of raspberry Chrystal Light in the back seat of the van (bright red projectile vomit shooting (yes, shooting) out of my four-year-old's mouth. very alarming to see from rear-view mirror view. At first sight I had a split-moment of panic, mistaking if for blood, then a longer moment (okay, a whole day) of regret for giving my sick-to-the-stomach child a dark red drink). I was doing pretty much the same thing on Saturday night so I felt right to assume I passed it along to him.
He slept all night Wednesday night, a drastic change to the previous night, and woke up happy and wanting to play. Once again I assumed he was over the 24 hour flu bug, as I was feeling fine and well the next day after mine. It was the morning of his preschool graduation program so I was just relieved he was better, since he was so excited and had been practicing his songs all week. Well, when his program started, he just sat on the bench like a slug. When I would give him kisses and encouraging whispers (a privilege I get as his teacher :), I, once again, assumed that he was hot because we were sitting in the hot sun. After the program (and after watching my poor, miserable child sit with his head hanging the whole time) he perked up a bit and ate a cupcake and some candy, but still just sat on the bench.
I had to stay for the afternoon preschool graduation so my mother-in-law took Jack and Jayci to her house. When I arrived to pick him up she said, "You have one sick boy here."
"Uh-oh" was my thought, and after assessing him and taking him home where he immediately fell asleep (not like him) I decided to get him into the doctor.
At the doctor's office, Jack wouldn't walk or sit by himself. He just wanted me to hold him so he could lay his head on my shoulder. (Also not like him. He's usually curious and wants to wander and explore.) The nurse and doctor looked him over (fever at 103.4, rashy back and neck, very flushed) and did a strep test,
which came back
positive.
Mother of the year, right here.
(You know what they say when you assume!)
Poor kid, I made him sit in the heat on a hard, uncomfortable bench, so he could sing to a scary crowd of unfamiliar adults! Not only that, I exposed him to twelve little kids, plus all of their little siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents! I swear I had no idea though. I just wrongfully led myself to a different conclusion.
The reason I wanted to write this post about Jack though is because of how sweet the little trooper was through the ordeal. After the doctor visit we stopped at Costco to fill his antibiotic prescription. (*Note to self: when the doctor asks if you want the prescription printed out or faxed to a pharmacy, you say, "Fax to the pharmacy (duh!) please!" Especially when you plan to take the ill child with you to pick it up!! Because in the 20 minute drive from American Fork, where the doctor is, to south Orem, where Costco is, plus the extra 10 minutes of getting out and into the car, then getting out of the car and into the store, they will probably have it almost ready. Ya, remember that next time!!!) We got into the store, had to wait in a line just to give them the paper, fill out forms since I've never filled anything for Jack there, get told it would be a 45 minute wait, so we wandered the store, called Jesse to ask if he wants me to bring home a take n' bake pizza, let Jack pick out new jammies for Jayci and him, walked passed the bakery like 10 times to see if Jen was working (Jack kept asking, "Let's go see our friend Jen!"), picked out some produce, looked at books and movies, and finally made our way back to the pharmacy
where there was a. huge. line.
bigger than I've ever seen there.
like 10 people in front of us.
another 30 min wait.
With about 3 people ahead of us, Jack starts doing the dance. Shoot. Then with 2 people ahead of us he starts telling me how bad he has to go potty. Crap.
"Sorry bud, see if walking or running around the cart helps."
Yes, I really told him that. My poor, sick child!
Finally we have the prescription and are in the check out line to make the rest of our purchases. It was already 7 (I left the house at 4:10) and I knew we wouldn't want to wait for a pizza to cook at home so I ordered one from the food court. You can order them at the register so I figured by the time I finished paying, took Jack to the potty, and made my way back to the food court it would be ready.
It wasn't.
When we got home it was almost 8. My feet hurt so bad from aimlessly wandering Costco's concrete floor in flats that are a size too small.
But we had the medicine.
And a cooked pizza.
And an uncooked pizza
because I was too lazy to walk to the back of the store to put it back
Rewind to the beginning of the story to hear Jack's side (or what I saw as his side), the whole reason for wanting to write this long post about him in the first place.
Tuesday night Jack woke up crying, doubled over with a stomach ache and a high fever. He was assured and comforted that the pink medicine would help him feel better so he tried his hardest to relax. He snuggled up to me in my bed and fell asleep. Even in his sleep he whimpered but still had faith in his Mama and the medicine. He'd wake up every half hour or so, but wouldn't get up or cry out loud, just snuggle and whimper.
In the morning he was the sickest he's been in years, yet he didn't cry and was actually excited to go to aunt Jenny's work for an Xray. We stopped on the way home to get a smoothie and Jack just politely told me he would drink it when he got home (since he really was on the verge of puking, and did just a few minutes later). He didn't make a fuss when he threw up, which is why I was so startled to look in the rear view mirror at that moment. He came home and slept or rested the rest of the day. I don't think he left my bed for 6 hours straight.
The next morning he was a real trooper and went to school with no tears (giving me no indication he was still so sick). He obviously wasn't in the mood to perform, but still sat there and endured it without complaining.
At the doctor he was terrified he was going to have to get a shot, yet he just bravely snuggled up to me without any tears. He really perked up when I told him we were all done and he hadn't gotten a shot.
At Costco he kept looking up at me saying things like, "I just really love you", "I love you so much Mama", "I'm okay Mom", "Jayci likes princess jammies the best", ("well sweetie, they don't have any princess jammies, but here's some that say 'you are my sunshine' ") "Oh, Jayci likes that song! We should buy those!", "I'm the prince at Jayci" (meaning: Jayci's the princess and I'm her prince), "Where's Jen Mom? Let's show her our jammies!"
For the most part Jack seemed pleased as punch to be alone with me, both of us drinking our fountain sprites I bought when I realized how long the wait was going to be. For part of the time he was sitting on the handle bars with his arms wrapped around me while I pushed and he kept reaching up to kiss my cheek.
Even though it was crazy-long, that day and experience with Jack was one of the sweetest times we've shared together. Jack had compete love for and trust in me. How grateful I am to be his mother. How privileged I feel to have been trusted with my sweet son.
How very fortunate I am.
