Went to a baby shower Saturday. It was nice. But something jumped on my youngest boy and won’t let go. When I tell you my eyes burn, and my head hurts, and I have no desire to be cute, believe me. Take last night for instance. I thought this thing was turning in the direction of wellness, but I was wrong. It all started with the congestion in his head. It looked like an allergy at first–puffy eyes and runny nose, with a cough. We’re accustomed. Could’ve been the fragrances at the party. Bet. Drugs in the bag at all times.
We got through the first few hours okay, but it turned ugly during that night. Had to pull out the machine and give some breathing treatments. No biggie; we’re accustomed. Ari laughed cause he had the shakes. We’re accustomed. Sunday was pretty much the same. Hmm, maybe not an allergy with this temp. We can handle it. We got this. Monday went okay. Runny nose and some earls, no problem. Get it all out. Must be a virus instead. Yesterday was pretty much the same. Then last night it came to a head. The stuff in his head relocated to his chest, so I was up every so often checking his chest movement. I broke out the breathing treatment again about 5:00 this morning, cause he said his chest hurt. He never really woke up though. His temp went away in the interim.
Now here’s where it gets out of hand. I noticed at about 6am that my roommate wasn’t in bed. He was in the middle of the room dancing, with my socks on. I begged him to lie down and watch TV. I even put my arm across him. Then sometime before 7am I woke up again and there was shredded toilet paper everywhere. Guess he had to blow his nose a few hundred times. A closer look at the floor showed vials of medicine around the room, and the box beside me. This man was trying to snap the cap off one and give himself a treatment. I begged him to lie down, but he said no. He was trying to get the liquid from the vial into the cup. He showed me where he had taken the mask off and he was clearly ready, except for that one step. So I got him to come back to bed. Next time I woke up, he was standing over me on the bed with my socks and his shoes on. He was dancing again.
I don’t remember a lot after that, but when I woke up again about 7:45, he was passed out in his spot, breathing a lot better than the night before. I dare not touch him again until I was all the way dressed for work and ready to step into my shoes. He got up like he had slept so well. And off we went. He’s probably sleeping right now. I’m sucking down coffee. God help me.
From the Mind of:
Tonya D. Floyd
The exciting adventures of the little old man in publication soon.