Let’s pretend I am not terrified.
Let’s pretend that seeing him lie there with a 102º fever is perfectly normal.
Let’s pretend that I am brave and strong and that saying, “We are all okay,” actually makes it true.
The thing is, I believe that. I believe that my mind leads the way here and if I can believe it, then it, too, can be possible. Perhaps that is why I am so enamored with the entire idea of writing and story. They make things possible in my worldview.
So, my son is sick right now. He’s five, and he doesn’t have coronavirus, he’s got five year old nonsense that comes from two weekends in a row of birthday parties at germ infested party places of joy. Video games, rides, ball pits, tokens, tickets, and sneezing friends — you know, every mother’s dream. He came out of the first weekend with a sore throat. The second weekend, a low grade fever joined in.
These are things we usually ride out with medicine for fevers and lots of rest. I kept him home from school, gave him the medications, he had good days while the world had bad ones. It was about time for him to head back to school, but I kept him an extra day. Then the bad days outside grew worse and all of a sudden he said, “My ear hurts.”
He’s needed to see a doctor when all health care facilities have become a bastion of contagion. I rolled the dice not bringing him in, hoping to ride it out, hoping the ear was just a referred pain from the throat. It wasn’t.
It’s 2020, the world is new and this morning I had my first ever virtual doctor’s visit. The medicine for my son is on it’s way.
I’m less terrified. The pretending worked. Today we’re okay. and, for now, today is all that matters.