Monday, October 20, 2014

The Beast

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Christopher sick at the pediatrician 



October 20, 2014


The beast implement itself inside my youngest child. I noticed the on slot of symptoms after picking him up from school. As a routine my boys are pretty wild, even after a long day in class. But today, Christopher was just lying on the couch lethargic. Not even the Mickey Mouse Club on Disney Jr. could motivate him. His skin was warm, his body ached, and there was no smile on his face.  Like a fairy tale of fairy’s and mythical creatures, the mythical beast of sickness had found him.

I was hesitant to write about this because of this Ebola scare going on but I can assure you, the reader, it wasn’t Ebola. But this flu was a beast, unlike I have ever seen, since I became a parent in 2008.

As the evening progressed, my son wailed and moaned, like if he was transforming into the legendary werewolf, during a full moon transformation. His persistent howls made me cringe. As a worried parent I could only think about what may have been ravishing his insides. I wanted to take his pain like any good parent would however; I could only lay by his side as he attempted to find a position that would bring him comfort.

While the beast worked on Christopher I didn’t have the luxury of tending to him full-time because there was also a restless 6- year old that I had to entertain, Nico, my oldest son. I had to be happy, sad, sympathetic, caring, neutering, loving, concerned, and thoughtful all at once. My emotions were being raked all over the human field of emotions. Nico wasn’t sick. He didn’t care who was sick. He didn’t consider how being sick affected us all. All he wanted to do was play. What six-year old doesn’t?

While my youngest son would sleep, he’d cease to be needy, but then my oldest son, with his playmate out of the picture, wanted his attention and naturally I was his newest pal.

“Daddy, watch me do this.”

“Daddy, lets play hide and seek.”

“Daddy, lets build a fort.”

After playing a merry-go-round of run of the mill games, Nico, would pause to play electronic games on my Android phone. Which he still lovingly calls, “daddy’s iPhone.” And it seemed that any break I wanted for myself, to rest, would never come.

“Ahh finally, rest,” I say out loud as I ease into my very comfortable recliner.

“Daddy,” Christopher said to me.

He was still very groggy since he had just woken up from a nap.

“Yes, buddy.”

“I’m sick,” he said, "I have to go to the bathroom now. So if you don’t mind daddy please get up and accompany me to the bathroom and assist me with releasing this beast from my body.”

I know what you’re saying to yourself while you read that last quote.

“No way your son said that.”

 And you are correct. The above content was just wishful thinking being typed out. I wish that’s the way this went but, well, it didn’t. The real version went like this.

“Daddy?”

“Ye… oh my! Christopher what just happen? Where did all that stuff dripping down your legs come from? What the heck just happen? Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, no, I’m so sorry. Oh, Jesus! Lets get you to the bathroom right away.”

And so it went for the next 2 weeks and three doctor appointments. The beast attacked him. And in between attacking him the beast leaped to my oldest son. And then it leapt to me. For the last 3 weeks of September, us boys, battled one of the worse cases of stomach pain I have had in a very long time.

Whatever my youngest son had it was truly a beast. In the end I almost resorted to a priest to exorcise this thing out of our lives. I was up to my shoulders in, well, crap, and whatever else the beast could unleash on us. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t want to eat and I couldn’t take care of myself as well as one should since my sons were the ones that needed the most attention.

The beast may have taken my son out the first day but after two weeks he made up for that day by eating his weight in food, running without a care, and just being a 5 year old kid. We should all be so lucky. And once the beast leaves me, I will be.

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