So, in an effort to download my memory banks (because in 10 years I'm going to wonder...what did we do the Summer of 2017?), here goes...
For about 6 weeks this Summer I was plagued by a virus from hell. It manifested in the weirdest ways - ways in which I didn't know my body was capable of dysfunctioning.
No sore throat, no runny nose (well, very minimal snotting) - those are the usual suspects. Instead I had pink-eye. I've never had pink-eye in my ENTIRE life. It was very weird.
And I coughed a lot. Especially at night. For almost 2 weeks I spent EACH and EVERY night coughing my lungs out for about 3-4 hours. Sweating from the effort, sucking hard on Ricola, and pleading to God for mercy. I know things are really bad when I literally pray - God help me. Please God help me. Please, please, please. Have mercy on me, a sinner.
The weird thing was, I was fine all day, but then at night - the horrible coughing marathon.
So after a lot of Googling and consulting doctor friends, my best guess was I had a viral infection that caused a lot of post-nasal drip which is accentuated and greatly exacerbated when you lie down. And so for weeks I slept propped up on two pillows, as if one were to fall asleep sitting on the couch.
So six weeks is a long time to feel crappy. And during that time a lot of other stuff happened.
For one, I crashed our family car. Again.
I was stopped at a red light; there were 2 cars in front of me. The light turned green and we all started to roll forward slowly. Two seconds in, I thought it was a good time to look down for a box of tissues and then BOOM!
The first car slammed on his breaks completely, which caused the 2nd car to slam on his breaks completely, which caused me, the downward-gazing driver to slam into the 2nd car.
I was going maybe 5 mph? If that.
The car I hit had a small dent in his back bumper.
My car, however, feigned like an NBA pro, crumpling completely.
|Sigh, another one bites the dust.|
Things I felt in the immediate aftermath - horror, shame, disgust (at myself), sad, sad, very, very sad.
And also during my 6 week viral illness, Judah had one of the toughest days of his short life.
We noticed one of his bottom teeth was growing in but his baby teeth were not wiggling enough. It slowly dawned on the Spouse and I that Judah would need to get his baby teeth extracted. ASAP.
The day of the scheduled extraction I went to pick up Judah from Summer Camp and saw a giant circle bruise right in between his eyes. Apparently he had been hit by a baseball (which he called the "moneyball" because it's the pitch that's supposed to be the hardest and fastest) which a strong 9 year old batted in the direction of his face.
Judah was in a lot of pain and moaned about having a headache, which means he's really hurt because this guy doesn't complain about physical pain, ever.
And now he was getting his teeth pulled, but he didn't know it because the Spouse and I decided it was best to not tell him! Why worry him needlessly with anticipation? We merely told Judah the dentist was going to "look at" his teeth.
The moment he received the bad news while reclining on the padded dentist chair was one I'll recall for a long time. Judah, I'm so sorry but the dentist said he has to take out BOTH your bottom two teeth. (An x-ray revealed that the other adult teeth was just days away from making it's debut as well).
His eyes opened wide with fear, filled with tears, shock, betrayal, worry.
I wondered how this would end.
But my brave, accommodating, good boy was true to his brave, accommodating, good nature, and despite his intense fear, laid still and let the dentist give him two numbing shots with a giant needle and yank out both his teeth.
Two hours and 8 extremely bloody gauzes (and a good dose of ibuprofen) later, he was smiling again.
|Judah - Minus two teeth; Plus one swollen bruise|
There's nothing quite like your baby losing his baby teeth that makes you feel like he's not a baby anymore.
Another milestone. Another passage. Another clear marker that...that...there's life and growth and change...and very real loss.