Letters To My Sons | February

Dear boys,

I had just pointed out to Daddy, a few days prior, how we were going on four winters since anyone in our family had been sick. Besides a few ping pong episodes of pinkeye a couple summers back, we’d been overwhelmingly blessed with good health. I mean neither of you have taken a sick day from school! Ever. That is until now. And if I believed in jinxes, I just might have thought I summoned this virus, because a few days after my boast, Cash started complaining he was feeling hot and sluggish. And it wasn’t long before Grey started feeling the same. With two high fevers in the house, the next morning I’d be phoning in the first sick days of either of your lifetimes, not knowing this was just the beginning.

Because this first sick day was so monumental, Cash suggested I write about in my next “Letters To My Sons”. Also monumental was the need to go over sick day protocol for which had never been necessary. There would be no Nintendo games and no wrestling (a usual part of your daily routine). Staying home from school was for recovery, not a free-play-game-day. It would involve drinking fluids, resting and watching cartoons which you agreed to without hassle — a telltale sign of not feeling well.

Cash had the quickest snapback from the flu. After a 24-hour fever, multiple hug requests, a random lost tooth, and a fever-induced sleepwalking episode that almost had me dashing for the emergency room, you were back amongst the healthy. Counting down the hours to get back to school, you even went to bed an hour early just so the day would end sooner. “I don’t like sick days Mom! They are so boring! I CAN’T WAIT to go back tomorrow!”

Poor Grey didn’t fair as well. The virus hit you with almost all possible symptoms. It was on the second day that your temperature rose to 104.5 and the earache and body aches were more than you could bear. While lying on the examination table, the doctor said that although she’d do the routine flu test (mainly to find out which strain), she could make a diagnosis simply by looking at you. Poor baby! A classic case of what the flu looks like.

That afternoon you began taking Tamiflu which was around the same time I started feeling sick. It’s no wonder since I’d been sharing a bed with you for the past couple of nights. It would be the first time I’ve ever had the flu and left me begging to meet my maker.

You ended up missing an entire week of school and together we worked toward healthy, one day at a time. Even after you returned to school, it took me another full week to recover. Amazingly Dad never got sick. I nicknamed him “The Teflon Don” because the virus never stuck to him; he came away completely unscathed.

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Tremendous joy washed over me when lingering coughs were finally gone, the house had been wiped clean with Lysol and the bedsheets and towels washed and sanitized. I may have even skipped down the street, thrilled to be able to climb steps and do simple tasks again without shortness of breath or fear of collapse.

I pray boys that we have another long stretch of wellness to boast about once again, since there is no greater blessing in the world than good health.

And Cash — thanks for the suggestion to write about this in February’s “Letter”. It was definitely deserving of its own monthly narrative.

I love you boys. Health is our wealth.

Always and forever.

Mom