In Chapter 10 of my novel Another Dance, the main character's daughter gets sick, setting off a chain reaction of family illness. Annie introduces the sickness with the following excerpt:
"The day after my second dance class I feel like I would rather be stuck with forlorn dreams and nightmares when all hell breaks loose in my home—and by all hell, I mean the flu. It starts with Penny, or as I like to call her, Patient Zero. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of the household will get sick. And it’s never conveniently at the same time; no, the illness prefers to cascade through the family like a waterfall, bouncing from rock to rock, trickling on a flat stone for a break, a moment of ignorant bliss before crashing down even stronger, drowning anything in its wake before finally plunging into the deep end and coming out in calmer waters after it’s been carried away with the current."
My own experience as a mom definitely inspired this descriptive tidbit, and I've only gained more wisdom in that department this past month. It started with my daughter Aubry having a 103 fever the night we showed up at my in-laws' for our family Christmas, four hours away from home. A weekend of high fevers and hanging out in a corner recliner still saw Aubry with a sore throat and fever, so we go to the doctor on Monday, and she has strep throat, with my own case in hot pursuit. For Christmas, we both received a hefty dose of antibiotics...along with our other gifts. Thinking we are in the clear while still taking antibiotics, I come down with a horrible head cold one week later, ringing in the New Year with the worst headache of my life and no spirted libations to blame. Flash forward to today, three weeks later during a four-day weekend between semesters, and my daughter has had high fevers the entire break, reaching up to a frightening 105 degrees at times. She has a historical tendency to get these high fever spikes, but it still doesn't make it easier to see her suffering or to calm my worrying. I know to give her medicine, overlapping Tylenol and Ibuprofen if needed, and lukewarm baths and cool cloths are go-to's, but my mama-heart still aches watching her hurt. And even though we are stuck at home, I find I can't be productive. Homebound means being able to catch up on a good book, watch a movie, or get some grading or cleaning or writing done, right?
Actually, no, because I can't focus enough to accomplish anything but attend to my sick child. And I guess that is how it should be, but my own need to be productive nags at me, making me fall into a pit of self-loathing. Just another chapter in the Book of Mom Guilt.
Family sickness is never fun, but as Annie shares in Another Dance, there is a light at the end of the tunnel:
"As usually happens when the epitome of sickness or suffering is reached, it eventually gets better. Both kids finally sleep through the night, at least until 4 AM Sunday morning, at which time they both manage to crawl into my bed, each snuggling into my side, my body bookended by their moppy heads and sprawling limbs. Even my symptoms lessen by Sunday afternoon, and all three of us are ready to reenter the world of school and work come Monday."
I'm ready for the post-sickness snuggles and hoping the waterfall misses the rest of us. Stay healthy, everyone, and if you do get sick, don't feel guilty. Just relax, be in the moment, and feel better soon.
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