Few things feel worse than cancelling a child's birthday party. Last year Jacob got so sick and ran such a high fever that at the last minute I was forced to cancel his fifth birthday celebration. It was awful. The whole time I kept thinking, "I wish I could just be sick for you - take it away from you so you feel better and get to eat cake with your friends." What mother hasn't thought that? I think the desire to take on all the bad stuff for our kids is hardwired into us. This year, a particularly bad year for illness in our house, I watched nervously as yet another super virus swept through the schools.
When I had to keep Chloe home last week due to a fever, I got an ominous feeling as I looked at the calendar and saw how close Jacob's party was. He seemed fine, though, so fingers were crossed. We celebrate tomorrow and so far he seems healthy as a horse. Me, on the other hand...I woke up this morning for the first time all week and felt good. My fever broke sometime early this morning, and although I woke drenched in sweat and still thick-headed, I felt like a millions bucks - because since Sunday night I have been sick as a dog. I like to think that somebody up there heard me and said, "You betcha. We can make you as sick as you want..."
Fine. Just as long as he gets his party. I feel well enough today that 800 mgs of ibuprofen and pot of coffee are all I need to get up and get things ready.
Of course, I also can't help but wonder if I've picked any of this up at the hospital. The thing I love most about the new job is that I get to be all over the hospital. I get to interact with patients on just about every floor (except Behavioral Health - thank God, because I am so done with my social work days). Last weekend I needed to talk to a patient who was confined because she has MRSA. You know MRSA, right? That terrible super-virus that kids are getting in locker rooms and half their arm or leg or what have you gets eaten away? Well, this young woman had it. So I gowned up, masked up, put on the gloves and held my breath as I went into her room. After I left, I was outside of her door and I Purelled every surface of my body that was exposed. I caught a nurse looking at me with a funny look as I slipped off my heels and Purelled my feet.
Hey, I'm not taking any chances. Embarrassment or MRSA? Easy choice.
I wonder if they will notice that this weekend I will be covered in a thin sheeting of saran wrap....