I have no idea when he’ll regain Tropical Storm Status, much less hurricane strength.  He has a sick. 

The phone rang at about 11:00am this morning.  School calling me to come get my baby.

He went from a cheerful little boy with a bit of a cough to a raving, deliriously sick little boy with a 102 temp, wheezing for breath in the space of about three hours today.

The verdict?  The same “almost pneumonia” that gramma and grampa both have. 

Actually, not to be outdone by anyone, gramma has full blown pneumonia.  Only three weeks before her surgery was scheduled.

So now he’s on trimethoprim – sulfamethoxazole.  It’s a pretty big gun antibiotic combo, but his doctor felt that because of the severity and suddenness that it was worth risking the side effects.  Apparently there’s a new antibiotic resistant staph infection making the rounds that develops into hemorrhagic pneumonia for the very unlucky, and is already killing people in Canada.

Not the sort of thing you want to hear when your child is sick.

The four hours in the walk in clinic today also means that, being immune-suppressed, even if I manage to avoid what Owen has, I’m sure to have picked up something else. 

Besides more kids.

It was an odd visit. 

Sweet Hubby sent along a new kid’s book-Clemmency Pogue: Fairy Killer, which I quietly started reading to Owen while we were waiting.  It’s a little advanced for less than three, but Owen’s a bright kid, and really, when he’s that sick, it’s just about hearing my voice.   After the first 20 minutes or so, I began to notice all the chairs around us filling up.  After 30, there were kids sitting on the floor in front of us.

By the time they called our name, there was a chorus of “Awwwwww” from about 20 kids. 

I forgot school was still out.  Apparently everyone got the plague for Christmas.

When we left, a dozen or so other moms stopped us on our way out to say thanks for providing the distraction that kept their sick, bored little kids quiet for long enough for them to have a cup of coffee while they waited, instead of trashing the waiting room.  (It’s a nice clinic-cafe in the waiting room)  The woman at the pharmacy waved goodbye too.

Then off to Fortino’s to pick up our prescription. 

Our Pharmacist, Atilla was very apologetic when telling us it would likely be a 30 min wait because EVERYONE on earth was sick.  Owen fell asleep in my arms while we waited.  Eventually one of the big teenaged boys that were sprawled in the armchairs the pharmacy provides for waiting was shooed away by a little old lady, who told him to “lift his fat ass and let that poor woman have a chair!” and we got to sit.  Owen just rearranged himself, wrapped one hand in my hair and said “Sing Ear a vatta, Mommy.” 

I did. 

He went back to sleep. 

We were there for almost an hour. 

Several people stopped to tell me that we were the loveliest thing they’d seen all day.

The woman who works the coffee counter saw us when she went on her break.

She came back with a cookie for him. 

The lady from the deli counter brought a drink of water when he started coughing, and the customer service girl from the bulk food brought him a lollipop.

They all remembered his name, even though I hadn’t mentioned it today.

These are all familiar strangers.  We’ve seen them several times a week since Owen was very tiny.  They don’t owe us anything, and it never occurred to me that anyone ever really noted our passing by at all.

Today was one of those days that reassures you of the basic kindness in the hearts of most people. 

In spite of the sick boy, it cheered me up immensely.  Must remember that in my day to day life.  You just never know when the tiniest things you do will make someone’s day.

Every interaction is a choice.