Around 10:00 this morning, The Triathlete got a phone call from Number One Son from his school. He was complaining about blurred vision and headache . . . Even that he was having trouble reading words at the board because the letters were swimming around. We thought it might have been some kind of ploy, since he has been acting funny this week...but she decided to go lay her eyes on him just in case. When she arrived at the school office, he walked in and his eyes were both unfocused and crossing. She decided to take him to our pediatrician. Meanwhile, I began to think of the worst possible scenarios involving blood clots on the brain, aneurism, cancer . . . Thinking about how we would make it work at St. Jude in Memphis, wondering about how we would manage the other two while he was in the hospital . . . Worried until it got to the point where I was sure I was going to vomit. I sat and tried to work for about an hour when in walk the two of them, smiling.
As it turns out, he was crossing his eyes while clowning around for laughs at school, and overdid it. Our pediatrician knew it almost immediately. So after lunch, we took him back to school, and all agreed that the eye-crossing routine hadn't worked out very well.
Neither of us told him what we both experienced in that hour or so: the worst fear--the coldest knot of ice in the stomach, the hottest knife in the skull--that either of us has ever felt.
1 comment:
And so once again, Nathan is right in thinking that worrying does work -- almost all the things we worry about never happen!!! Not bad. I know J learned a lesson. Parenting is not for sissies. Love ya. Honey
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