I don’t do well with sickness. It freaks me out. Even minor illnesses give me the willies, especially if they involve throwing up. I’ve always been phobic about this, don’t even like to read people’s Facebook posts about it. Yes, it’s a recurring topic with my therapist.
So both boys have the stomach bug. It might be the 24 hour bug, it might be the five-day bug. I’m not sure yet. I’ll spare you the details. Suffice to say, I’m in a really uncomfortable place.
Having sick kids is like being in a poorly-lighted labyrinth. It’s impossible to know you’re out until you see the moonlight. And even when you think you’re out of danger, you might still be headed right into the hedgerow. When I realized last night that Akiva was sick (Gideon started Friday night and may or may not be better now) I felt pure dread about today. I desperately didn’t want to be at home by myself with two sick kids.
The day has been a festival of television and napping. The boys are taking turns watching the videos they have from the library and/or youtube videos. Akiva has discovered The Flintstones, and Gideon watches only truck porn. I have been on Facebook much of the day. I like to think of myself as a resourceful and creative mother, and I pride myself on spending time with my boys, reading with them, playing games, talking, learning together. Today, though, it’s all about survival. And (G-d help me) if it’s the five-day bug, we’re all going to be so tired of the screen by the end of the week, we’ll be ready to scream!
The truth is I don’t want to look at how uncomfortable I feel, how afraid and small and out of control I feel. I shudder to imagine the many ways my psyche would fall apart if I had (G-d forbid) an actual sick kid; that is, a kid with a serious medical problem.
I’m doing ok today. I’m coping by masking, though, and that is an uncomfortable lesson.