Pretty much sums it up this morning. YAWN! Today is a big day! I took tomorrow off so I can stay up past my bedtime and photograph the ‘Super Blood Moon Total Lunar Eclipse!” Sounds like a really bad SyFy movie sequel title no? Anyway, I’m stoked.
So, remember when back when we were in school and we’d have a rare sighting of one of our teachers outside of school? I had a moment like that Friday.
I took my lunch break to grab some produce from the 99 cent store, and who should be walking across the parking lot toward me? My laundry lady! So odd seeing her outside of this place.
‘This’ place by the way, is 90% men today. They’re all sort of aimlessly figuring things out and not talking to one another.
There’s two in that photo. Problem is, I was preparing to take a photo of the machines behind ‘sitting guy.’ Looked like a face to me – two frothy white eyes and a laundry basket mouth. But, then he plopped down and my washing machine face was obscured.
Speaking of faces (this is going to be a really bad segue) I have pink eye.
I was wondering why when I blinked it felt like I had sandpaper on the inside of my eye lids.
The sweet sharer of this condition is my darling son.
Poor kid hasn’t felt good in a week. We treated it like a bug, but yesterday morning, he was up and dressed when I got up. Rare. Very rare.
“I’m going to the hospital. I have lumps in my throat.”
We did the flashlight thing, and while his tonsils did look enlarged, no white spots so I was glad of that.
“Hold on, lemme get dressed, I’ll come with you.”
So off we went.
His comment when I snapped this pic “Really mom? I look awful!” As if that was going to stop me. Pffft. He SHOULD know me by now.
Then while waiting, I started poking around the room a little.
Good to know – nicely labeled – wait … WAIT … WHAT?
‘Vag’ light? There HAD to be more label available to spell that one out no? I mean, clearly the drawer above it isn’t abbreviated.
“Pass me a vag light, stat!”
I was in stitches laughing (no pun intended.)
Doctor came in, really nice guy.
He inspected my offspring as Nic asked him, “Do you see the lumps?” and proceeded to show the DOCTOR a photo he’d taken of his own throat. “Nic! He’s a doctor! He’s looking in your mouth.” I was amused. As if the doc (since we’re shortening things) was going to say, “OH! Jeez – thanks for pointing THAT out – can NOT believe I missed seeing that.” Anyway, doc then announced ear and throat infection – AND, pink eye.
It should be noted that while my son has insurance, I do not. And that’s not the reason I brought this up, but I casually said to the doctor, “Would that explain why I feel like someone threw sand in my eye?”
The doctor looked at me very seriously and said, “You’re not asking me to diagnosis someone I’m not treating are you?” I must have had a look of horror on my now red face because he quickly followed that up with a small smile and, “Because, I’ll be giving him a refill for the eye drops for someone I’m NOT consulting.”
I loved that doctor then. I mean, these days, who DOES that? So Nic and I are set when it comes to our eyeballs.
We then went to the pharmacy and put his antibiotic, pain and eye prescriptions in capable hands before running a few errands.
I have to say – and this may make me sound like a HORRIBLE mom, but, this past week while he’s been under the weather, there’s a part of me that liked it. No, I didn’t like that he was sick. No, I don’t have munchausen by proxy syndrome … It was just nice that my grown man of a son needed me. And let me stroke his hair off of his fevered forehead. That he was my little boy again. That I got to mother him.
I miss him needing me. I miss being strong for him. Protecting him.
And while I’m sure some would argue that the above are still true, it was just nice to hug him after bringing him a cold drink and him not letting go quickly.