Sick Day

Earlier this week, Colin had his very first sick day. On Sunday, we noticed that he was coughing and didn’t have much appetite (which is horribly unusual for him) but we took him to daycare on Monday with high hopes. Then I disappeared from cell phone reception until noon.

When I emerged, I had missed several calls from Cheap and Close as well as Patrick, and had a text message reading, “Colin is sick. Want to flip a coin?”

No need. Thanks again, anesthesia!

When I arrived at Cheap and Close, I found Colin in a playpen pushed against the wall of the living room with the babysitter sitting on the far end of the room. She had quarantined the other kids in the back of the house and was herself sitting on the couch wringing her hands until I arrived. I swooped down upon my little boy, who smiled and said, “HI!” as usual upon seeing me, and held him close to my face. He leaned in for kisses, which I readily gave.

Cheap and Close, an admitted germophone, was horrified.

“Oh, dear. I hope you’ve had your flu shot, because kissing all over him will make you get it for SURE.”

This reminded me of the recommendations for parents of kids with the H1N1 flu that I heard on the radio: Wear a mask. Stay 6 feet away. Keep the ill child away from other people.

Seriously? A MASK? That won’t scare the poor, sick little kid at all. And I guess it’s lucky that Colin, at 13 months, can already prepare his own meals, change his diaper, and administer medication; otherwise I might have to come close to him to care for him.

6 feet and a mask? Please.

So Colin and I trucked on home. It was obvious that he was fine but didn’t feel great, so we flipped on some cartoons and snuggled all afternoon on the couch. Just me, him, Blanket, and a giant stuffed bear, all piled on top of each other, keeping ourselves warm, resting, loving, healing. It was good for us all.

(Except Blanket. Poor thing got vomited on and is coming unraveled. I don’t think snuggling is the answer for it.)

We stayed home the next day too, and my mother came to stay with Colin for a few hours while I ran downtown and took a little tiny 90%-of-my-grade exam. While I was gone she sent me this photo, with the caption, “Your Sick Kid”:



Poor guy looks miserable, doesn't he?

It is my opinion that he faked being sick so that he could stay home and snuggle with me, Blanket, and the bear. He’s pretty advanced, you know, so I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to think that he just knew what he wanted and came up with a plan to get it. Like Stewie, only bursting with love instead of plans to take over the world.

I started General Surgery today, miss my little bug already, and am so grateful for the “sick day”.