Can’t go out I’ve been up all night
Its for sure, not for maybe
That I’m all strep’d out tonight
(With apologies to Irving Berlin and Tony Bennett)
I spent a delightfully (not!) sleepless weekend alone with Nik (Niksdad had to work all weekend). We stayed up and partied all night long every night and then clung together like Kate Winslet and Leo DiCaprio on the Titanic. Well, truth be told, Nik clung and I just sank. I’ve never seen him so sick and miserable before.
Folks, we’re talking about a child who spent 209 days in the NICU and has gone through countless surgeries —granted, he had the benefit of some really groovy drugs for those. He would not let me out of his sight. He spent the better part of the past two days laying on top of me. If I had to get up to go to the bathroom or into the kitchen —both of which are within sight of the family room and are only a few feet away (hey, our house is pretty small) —Nik would follow me and cling to my pants.
When I gently pushed him out of the way of the gate as it closed, separating us for a mere minute or two, Nik would convulse with shrieks and wails, he’d bang his head on the gate and claw at his already tender ear. It was pathetic and heart-stoppingly frightening at the same time.
What on earth had become of my happy-go-lucky independent kid who was always content to hang out and play by himself? What could possibly have happened to cause such angst and anxiety in a mere five year old? I still don’t have the answer to that one. I’m hoping it’s a temporary aberration.
Today, however, after three days of antibiotics, there is a sliver of sunlight shining through. I have been able to leave the room for brief periods. Nik fussed but didn’t melt down. And, despite having been up nearly all night (I think only sleeping from 8 p.m. to 9:30, then again from 10:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. qualifies; I only slept the latter portion of that stint), Nik has been in remarkably good spirits. He has been content to play with his toys again. For the past two days they have all been completely ignored in favor of mama’s lap. Whew.
The fever seems to have broken but the tongue is still sporting its lovely white coat with pink spots indicative of strep throat —which he may have picked up from his cousin last week, we think. We’ll be partying with our pals Advil and Mucinex for a while longer, I think.
As for me? Well, I joked about having a party with my friends Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir and, possibly, Jose Cuervo. Sorry guys, Mama’s too pooped to party!
As you were.