A Better Man

This morning dawned with a 4 year old being lifted onto my bed. "Don't wake up mommy, she's sick." And then he was gone, off to work for his 10 hour shift at the top of the mountain. "Daddy, why do you have to go ?" "Because I have to work baby - I'll see you tonight."

After much tossing and turning, she decided to just get up, and wanted my company.

I opened my eyes, blew my snot-crusted nose, and draaaaaagggggggeeeeddddddd myself out of bed. Every inch, ever particle, every hair was aching. My eyes and lungs burned. The dawn was stifled by the murky vog - things were not better. Not better at all.

I wandered down the hall to look at Max, who was snuffling and gasping in his sleep. But at least he was sleeping.

At about 8am, I took Lucy to school. I can't say that driving was necessarily a wise decision, but I thought that getting her to school, and away from our misery, was.

On the road, I spoke to Max's doctor. I love Max's doctor. Doctor Kitty is from New Hampshire, and she is the kind of doctor I recognize. The kind I grew up with. Calm, soft-spoken, grounded, funny and serious at the same time. If you are not familiar with New Englanders, she might come off as cold and clinical - but to me, she is simply professional, and reassuring in her straight from the hip assessments. Plus, she works at a large, HMO clinic - and still answers her own phone. And gives people her direct number. Unheard of.

Her assessment over the phone was: Bring him in.

Next phone call was to my doctor. Upon hearing that I was on my way to the clinic, he told me to stop in his office while I was there, so he could take a look and get me some meds. I love my doctor too.

So we saw our doctors, got smoothies, waited for prescriptions, and went through a lot of Kleenex. By the time I was finally headed home, after picking up Lucy from school to eliminate another trip later on, I was burning the last reserves of my energy. Everything was so impossibly sore and weak, all I wanted to do was climb in bed.

I called Sami to give him an update.
"Do you guys have the flu ?"
"Nah, thank god we got those flu shots."
"Do you need anything on my way home ?"
"Um, I don't think so - leftovers tonight, OK ?"
"Yeah, that sounds great - do you want an Icee ?"

I love this man.

Five simple words that make a sick woman swoon.

So he came home - I was once again in bed, shivering and sweating. Only now, I was also short of breath, and slightly dizzy.

He came bearing a Coke Icee. The triumphant hero. He made dinner. He fed us and got the kids in bed. Now he is doing dishes, while I sit here and think about how amazing he is, and how even when I am really mad at him, he still makes me laugh. How, when the chips are down, and I need a friend, he is here, with a Coke Icee and a hug, and some comforting words.

To think about being a single parent is just unfathomable, with such a great partner. Especially today.

All I need now is some good clean air, and I'll be alright.