On Being a Parent
The job of Mom or Dad is the most difficult job in the world. Period. You are responsible for a life. And there are no short cuts. No buck passing.
Eight years ago. 4AM. My son, then four-years-old, let out a barky-gaspy cough. My wife ran to his room. The child told her that he was having trouble breathing.
She felt his head. Burning up. Quick temperature check with the ear thermometer. 106.6 degrees Fahrenheit.
Oof!
“Jim,” my wife called. “He’s got a fever of 106.6! Should we bring him to the hospital.”
Cogitating: 106.6 is almost 108. 108 can fry your brain and kill you. The hospital’s going to do its damnest to get the fever down. We can get the fever down quicker here. And without all the hassle and paperwork. I hate paperwork. Or calling the HMO. I hate HMOs.
Processing Time: 0.02 microseconds.
“Let’s stay home and get it down here.”
My wife gave him 150 milligrams of ibuprofin. And we started a cold washcloth bucket brigade. We had four or five washcloths cycling. My wife would keep him cool and wet. When a washcloth got warmish, I soaked it in ice-cold tap water and returned it to her. All the while, she was getting him to drink water.
In fifteen minutes, his temperature was 101 degrees F. Livable. Much less scary.
My wife was the hero. She stayed up with him the rest of the night. She was his guardian angel while he slept.
Come sunrise, his temperature is normal. And he wanted to go to school.
Kids are tough. Moms are tougher.
Parenting is even tougher.
…
Postscript: Bringing the child to the emergency room was probably the more prudent thing to do. But also, when considering the story, realize that my wife and I are both registered nurses. That factored into our decision to stay home.
...
If you liked that, you might like one of these:
- How Not To Die
- War. It’s a Guy Thing.
- Enjoy Every Sandwich, Part I
- Pineapple-Jalapeno Salsa
- Enjoy Every Sandwich, Part III-1
...
2 Comments