Recovery

One of the many drawbacks of our time is that while doctors discover many cures, statistics reveal that more and more people are suffering from new illnesses. On schedule for vaccines and boosters, Mighty Mighty had chicken pox vaccine shots 10-14 days ago. Part of the side-effects was fever. He caught an interesting strain that ran up to almost five days on and off, with cough and colds. He ate little and dropped in wieght.

Parents will perhaps think they are more informed and equipped now, because we have a ready accessibility to practical knowledge, we can send text messages to our pediatrician, and we even have our little ones on health insurance. Parents respond to these things with either paranoia or confidence. I had a more bookish approach as I was ready to take him to the hospital anytime if it goes the distance. D. was more instinctive, and maybe she intunited that sticking him on IV and medical observation isn't what's needed now. I'd always trust her guts over mine, and I'm glad she's always right. She takes these nautral, preventive measures. She has a knack for getting these clean solutions.

D. took a leave for a few days to nurse him, to literally hold him all this time. On that fifth day she went back to work. I already arrived from the night shift and an hour or two after D. left for the office, the little one was still crying. I remember telling him, "Get well and we'll go out this weekend."

He took his time to hush. We tried the tricks. It turns out what he wanted was to wear his pinstiped baseball cap that had "Little Slugger" logo. He wanted to go outdoors and get some fresh air.

We went out and had some sunshine. He hushed and I could have sworn I saw rainbows.

The rest of the day went. I fed him bananas, avocados and the soup D. made. We were behind on some bills because we haven't gone out the past couple of days, followed by National holidays, so I went out briefly and lined up to pay the electric.

He was napping when I got home. I couldn't sleep yet. I've got just enough energy for an easy errand. I decided to brush and wax my shoes.

I may have been weary, but to parahprase Nietzsche, I no longer walk on worn soles.