The Williams Law of Physics

Reality slaps us down pretty hard sometimes, I think, but it's all for a good reason. Ah, the cold and flu season! It makes us grumpy and turns us into gravel voices on the phone. But when you have a medically fragile child, it takes on this new kind of intensity.

Okay, so it's not new. It's the same kind of intensity that we've experienced for the last four years. Is it possible for intensity to be grinding? Because if there is such a thing as a grinding, wearing intensity, this is it.

Niko has been sick since Wednesday, the first to go down. He had a fever and a slight cough, and was cuddled, bathed, sponged down, sung to, napped with, and taken care of with SO MUCH CARE. All while caring for Nina, and sanitizing everything so that Sweetness herself wouldn't come down with Mystery Illness, too. On Friday I went down. Hard. Luke took the kids and I didn't spend more than half an hour at a time out of my bed. Saturday, after a victorious 5k race, (take that, illness! Fie!) Luke went down. I managed to wake the dead (myself) and get a handle on the household.

Cut to today, Super Bowl Sunday. Which is important to millions of people, but not to me. Nina's fussy and sleeping a lot. Niko's coughing every five minutes, although with a little more energy. Luke is practically human, and I'm breathing. So what's wrong?

This is what's wrong. We're taking the kids to the doctor in the morning. For those of you who have witnessed this experience firsthand (Dad) you know that his terror and shrieking makes everybody downright stupid. It's really hard to take him. I've convinced myself that he has pnemonia, and the last time that he did, we were incarcerated inside of the hospital for days. I was slowly packing an overnight bag for Niko and myself, just in case, and the feelings that rushed over me were absolutely overwhelming. What if he is in the hospital? He's bigger now, and I'm sick myself. What if we're there for days? What about Nina? But mostly it was not again not again not again.

An object in motion tends to stay in motion. An object at rest tends to stay at rest. We had been allowed to stop the crazy carousel ride for a while and just rest. No hospitals. No meds. Just rest.

It hurts to give this up. It's like taking a breath and saying, "I somehow thought all of this was over," and then realizing that it won't ever be over, not really. There will always be colds. There will always be hospitals. And of course, there will always be Williams. That's just the reality of it, and like I said, sometimes reality feels that it needs to slap us down. I think that I choose to be grateful for that, because when you rest for too long, like we did, you forget how it was before. I was taking Niko's general good health for granted, and I don't ever want to do that. I want to always treasure his wellness.