And yet, here it is Friday afternoon and I'm still breathing.
I began the week feeling on top of the world. Completed the Broad Street run just 3 minutes slower than I did 7 years ago (and just two minutes behind hubs) while coming off of a bad case of strep throat that had me chilled and fevered and in bed just 5 days prior. I was so proud and ready to buckle down and take care of things - get caught up at work, gather gifts for teacher appreciation week, finish planning and booking various summer events, get the house cleaned, and just wipe off a lot of the old to do list. I was craving that feeling where everything was done and I could enjoy a beer on the sun porch while watching the fox whose den is in our backyard play with its kits - we've counted at least 5 playing so far.
Such a relaxing little fantasy.
Then this week smacked me in the face. Of course, it's hubs quarter close at work so he's been working past midnight every night since Monday, leaving me to deal with this stuff mostly on my own.
First, the Lobster woke up on Tuesday with a fever hovering just under 101, the threshold at which school calls you up and sends the kids home. I had a client meeting out of the office, so there was no option to take her with me or work from home. Hubs and I argued back and forth about what to do with her when we decided to do what other working parents with no other options did - pump her full of Tylenol and send her off to school. This would keep her fever down long enough so I could get through my morning meeting and get to her when I got the call to come get her.
Only the call never came, so I just kept on working. By the time I picked up the Lobster that evening, her fever was at 102 and my mommy guilt was at an all time high. Why didn't they call me? How did they not even NOTICE that she had a fever? How could I leave her at school knowing she had a fever? I didn't know which part I felt worse about. The only saving grace was that despite being flushed and having a temp, she acted like nothing was wrong.
The next morning her fever was higher and we went through the same song and dance - I would take her to work with me provided hubs picked her up at my work so I could attend my meeting and I'd come back and grab her after that. I took her to the doctor first thing because she was complaining Mommy, my ear wax in my right ear hurts. (yes, somehow when we weren't looking the Little Lobster roll has learned her left from right). Somebody was on our side when we got to the doctor because he proclaimed her infection-free and said the fever is just a result of a bad cold. Guiltily, I asked if I can have a note saying she's ok to go to school, a stark contrast from most mother who would be demanding an antibiotic or something else to make their child feel better. So off I brought her to school, where the teachers were surprised to see her after hubs told them she was sick, and off I went to work, out to my meetings, and to the store on the way back to daycare to get the aforementioned teacher appreciation gifts.
Thursday, off the kids went to school again with the gifts and some personalized cards in hand (the Lobster still with a fever, but at this point I just needed her to make it through the day). This time, we had a scheduled ophthalmologist appointment for Gobbles so I worked in the morning and came back to grab him just after lunch so we could head down to Wilmington. I thought nothing of this appointment on the approach because it was just a second opinion with a retina specialist recommended by Gobbles' regular pediatric eye doctor after we had a detached retina scare a few months ago.
Just another eye exam I figured, as my son played in the waiting room with an old set of legos, younger than the average patient by at least 70 years, charming every nurse and receptionist because kids are just so rare in their office.
After nearly 3 hours of waiting, testing, dilating, more waiting, and finally some poking and prodding, the doctor congratulated Gobbles on a job well done while his tech rewarded him with peanut butter crackers. My boy sat there crunching on his snack as I tried to comprehend the words that we've heard again and again. Sticklers' Syndrome. Risk of retinal detachment. Don't keep him in a bubble but always remain educated and cautious. Everything is intact right now but it can change in an instant. Nothing the doctor said was of surprise, but for some reason it still stung to hear. I pointed out that we'd been cleared of Sticklers and he said that they only tested the three known chromosomes and with my family history of retina issues he had no doubt that we had it in some form. He said that some sports were fine, others would be weeded out by the natural selection of the fact that Gobbles' sight would preclude him from performing well. He said to talk to Gobbles' soccer coach about headers, because they're a no-go. I pointed out that I still play soccer and have been heading the ball for 34 years and have had nothing happen, he responded with the obvious that Gobbles case is much more severe than mine.
The worst part came when the doctor answered the one question that no one has been able to. What is going to happen when my boy hits puberty and his eyes go through all that growth and development? Will he be able to correct to 20/20? Will he be able to drive? His answer was anecdotal because he had no crystal ball he told me. Well, I know a man whose prescription got into the minus 20s. He's around 50 now. He cannot drive any more and he cannot work. He used to work at Sears.
And that's when I stopped listening. I can't with this. The stupid everyday stuff I'd been worrying about all week flew out the window in that moment. Because really? All I give a shit about now is whether Gobbles will be allowed to be a normal kid and play the sports he wants despite restrictions or is the coach gonna be some dick If you don't head the ball you don't play on my team, if he'll be able to sit in class and see the board or if he'll be ostracized being in the front of the classroom all the time, if he'll be able to perform the functions he needs to succeed in his career, which isn't going to be at fucking Sears.
I waited 4 days to hit publish on this post because, really this isn't something to dwell on because there is nothing we can do at the moment. And really, the rest of the weekend turned out great with mothers' day activities and playdates and fun. But, I am going to post it, because even behind the fun and happiness we experience every day as a family, this is the shadow in the back of my mind just sitting and waiting, occasionally catching me off guard until I right myself back to the moment...
Such a relaxing little fantasy.
Then this week smacked me in the face. Of course, it's hubs quarter close at work so he's been working past midnight every night since Monday, leaving me to deal with this stuff mostly on my own.
First, the Lobster woke up on Tuesday with a fever hovering just under 101, the threshold at which school calls you up and sends the kids home. I had a client meeting out of the office, so there was no option to take her with me or work from home. Hubs and I argued back and forth about what to do with her when we decided to do what other working parents with no other options did - pump her full of Tylenol and send her off to school. This would keep her fever down long enough so I could get through my morning meeting and get to her when I got the call to come get her.
Only the call never came, so I just kept on working. By the time I picked up the Lobster that evening, her fever was at 102 and my mommy guilt was at an all time high. Why didn't they call me? How did they not even NOTICE that she had a fever? How could I leave her at school knowing she had a fever? I didn't know which part I felt worse about. The only saving grace was that despite being flushed and having a temp, she acted like nothing was wrong.
The next morning her fever was higher and we went through the same song and dance - I would take her to work with me provided hubs picked her up at my work so I could attend my meeting and I'd come back and grab her after that. I took her to the doctor first thing because she was complaining Mommy, my ear wax in my right ear hurts. (yes, somehow when we weren't looking the Little Lobster roll has learned her left from right). Somebody was on our side when we got to the doctor because he proclaimed her infection-free and said the fever is just a result of a bad cold. Guiltily, I asked if I can have a note saying she's ok to go to school, a stark contrast from most mother who would be demanding an antibiotic or something else to make their child feel better. So off I brought her to school, where the teachers were surprised to see her after hubs told them she was sick, and off I went to work, out to my meetings, and to the store on the way back to daycare to get the aforementioned teacher appreciation gifts.
Thursday, off the kids went to school again with the gifts and some personalized cards in hand (the Lobster still with a fever, but at this point I just needed her to make it through the day). This time, we had a scheduled ophthalmologist appointment for Gobbles so I worked in the morning and came back to grab him just after lunch so we could head down to Wilmington. I thought nothing of this appointment on the approach because it was just a second opinion with a retina specialist recommended by Gobbles' regular pediatric eye doctor after we had a detached retina scare a few months ago.
Just another eye exam I figured, as my son played in the waiting room with an old set of legos, younger than the average patient by at least 70 years, charming every nurse and receptionist because kids are just so rare in their office.
After nearly 3 hours of waiting, testing, dilating, more waiting, and finally some poking and prodding, the doctor congratulated Gobbles on a job well done while his tech rewarded him with peanut butter crackers. My boy sat there crunching on his snack as I tried to comprehend the words that we've heard again and again. Sticklers' Syndrome. Risk of retinal detachment. Don't keep him in a bubble but always remain educated and cautious. Everything is intact right now but it can change in an instant. Nothing the doctor said was of surprise, but for some reason it still stung to hear. I pointed out that we'd been cleared of Sticklers and he said that they only tested the three known chromosomes and with my family history of retina issues he had no doubt that we had it in some form. He said that some sports were fine, others would be weeded out by the natural selection of the fact that Gobbles' sight would preclude him from performing well. He said to talk to Gobbles' soccer coach about headers, because they're a no-go. I pointed out that I still play soccer and have been heading the ball for 34 years and have had nothing happen, he responded with the obvious that Gobbles case is much more severe than mine.
The worst part came when the doctor answered the one question that no one has been able to. What is going to happen when my boy hits puberty and his eyes go through all that growth and development? Will he be able to correct to 20/20? Will he be able to drive? His answer was anecdotal because he had no crystal ball he told me. Well, I know a man whose prescription got into the minus 20s. He's around 50 now. He cannot drive any more and he cannot work. He used to work at Sears.
And that's when I stopped listening. I can't with this. The stupid everyday stuff I'd been worrying about all week flew out the window in that moment. Because really? All I give a shit about now is whether Gobbles will be allowed to be a normal kid and play the sports he wants despite restrictions or is the coach gonna be some dick If you don't head the ball you don't play on my team, if he'll be able to sit in class and see the board or if he'll be ostracized being in the front of the classroom all the time, if he'll be able to perform the functions he needs to succeed in his career, which isn't going to be at fucking Sears.
I waited 4 days to hit publish on this post because, really this isn't something to dwell on because there is nothing we can do at the moment. And really, the rest of the weekend turned out great with mothers' day activities and playdates and fun. But, I am going to post it, because even behind the fun and happiness we experience every day as a family, this is the shadow in the back of my mind just sitting and waiting, occasionally catching me off guard until I right myself back to the moment...
My heart breaks for Gobbles! (and you, Momma!)
ReplyDeletehugs!
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