Time for colds and illnesses and viruses of every sort to filter into our lives and bring us crashing to our knees. Last week it was Jaalyn and she was only mildly hit with a sinus infection, a terrible bout of coughing and brief low-grade fever.
Two nights ago it was Trinity. 101 degree fever, coughing, diarrhea, sore throat. My heart aches to see her unwell. Times like this make me angry at her father, who hasn't called to even see how she's faring. There are times when he throws it in my face that I have the luxury of having the children all the time. As if it's all sunny and rosy and happy days. Well, there are those days, but then there are times like now when she's moaning in her sleep because the fever and virus are coursing through her body and giving her no peace. Times like now when I feel her forehead, temples and soles of her feet praying to God that her fever has broken. I try not to disturb her as I check her, disguising my probing with kisses, backrubs and stolen moments. In the night I wake constantly, nearly every hour, to check her, feel her, medicate her and beat her.
I don't mean beat her as in abuse. I have to beat her back as she takes her breathing treatments to break up the congestion in her lungs. To somehow force her to take bigger gulps of medicated air in hopes that this gunk in the lower left lumbar will dissipate.
You see, Trinity has pneumonia... again.
My mom thinks, well at least she's hinted that this is my fault. That somehow I've neglected to bundle the child up against the cold and wind and rain... that somehow I've failed both my kids. That's just my mom being her usual toxic self. I suppose in a way she's right though; I mean in the late night hours I wonder the same thing myself.
0 comments:
Post a Comment