If someone's gonna get sick, it sure as hell better not be Mommy

Ain't it the truth. But, readers, I am down for the count.

To recap and to offer a complete Death And Dying Report, I spent my Friday night in the ER with The Scientist. He had a raging fever that I tried to cure with a lukewarm bath. This, according to the ER doc, did more for killing him that the actual fever. Apparently this is an addendum in medical textbooks now. And I bet you didn't know either, huh? But anyway, when you put a feverish person in lukewarm water, they shiver which just generates more body heat. My friend Jennifer suggested putting an ice pack on his groin in order to bring the fever down. I opted for the bath instead, so I told him to count his lucky stars and be grateful for the bath. Regardless of its ill effects. Gotta be better than an ice pack to the groin, right? He had a virus and he seemed better two days later.

On to me. I actually went to the doctor yesterday. This indicates that I did indeed feel as though I was dying. I hadn't been to any doc other than an OB in 6 years. SIX. Not even the year I had the flu on Thanksgiving day and had a fever of 102 but cooked dinner anyway, popped a few Tylenol and then went off to our traditional post-T'giving-dinner-movie. Suck it up, is my usual policy about illness. But, I did believe I was dying. So, off I went.

An hour later I had a playdate for my son as the doc lives very close to us and has a son Two Fish's age (told you I lived in a small town). I also had prescription for Penicillin and a positive rapid strep test. Somehow, if The Scientist gets sick, things might slow down and get a little complicated for a bit. If I get sick...the ship sinks.

But, this is a good example of how we handle illness differently. He felt he was getting sick, so, he went to bed and rested and took the appropriate drugs until he healed. I felt I was getting sick, so I spent the day washing and putting away every available dirty piece of clothing in the house, mopping all the floors, straightening the house, and planning meals for the next week. Things have to be managable if I'm going to be out of commission for awhile, right?

The Scientist has Two Fish and Red Fish right now and is off to tackle the carpool line. He gets BIG points for staying home since I've been sick. Of course, each of these days, he's somehow had some sort of lingering ailment that has threatened to overshadow the fact that I am begging for a throatectomy and have glands the size of golf balls bulging from the sides of my neck, but I try not to dwell on details. He gets the credit where it is due. And it is due, regardless. I'm supposed to be sleeping while he's gone. No tattle tales, please.