We Are Trained To Jump

So Niko's school calls me today, and tells me that I need to pick him up immediately. I have no car, and called several people before I found somebody to give me a ride. With Nina in my arms, I race into the office. He's not there. They tell me to go to the health office, so I'm thinking, "Oh no! He's with the nurse! Something is really wrong." So I race there. No Niko, but the nurse looks at my ID, gives me a Visitor sticker and sends me to his room. I have Nina on my hip, and I'm literally running to his classroom. I throw the door open and see Niko face-down on the floor. I nearly have a heart attack.

His new teacher is rubbing his back and says, "Shhhh, he's sleeping." Apparently during Music Time, which is when the teacher has her prep period, Niko had a diaper blowout, and the teachers and aids couldn't handle it. They freaked, and since they freaked, Niko freaked. So somebody runs for the teacher, and somebody else runs to call me. For a diaper incident.

"They scared me," the teacher said. "I thought he was choking, or something!" She said that she told them not to call me, but they already had.

The thing is, we are trained to jump. Any parent is, but you throw medical fragility in there, and suddenly everything goes into hyperdrive. "Come pick up your child" means that he stopped breathing, or something has broken inside. Somebody is going to explain this to these teachers, who simply aren't aware of the alarm that they cause.

Oh my lands. My heart nearly stopped.