Half There

Oliver stopped puking, and we three went about our daily business yesterday. Michael went to work, and I did too, after dropping Oliver off at daycare. I told Pam that I noticed a very faint pinpoint rash on his tummy, but that it was probably nothing.

Within three hours, that nothing of a rash spread from his face to his toes, and showed up with a fever of 103. Stuck in a meeting, I texted Michael to call Pam and figure things out. As I walked out of my meeting, Michael texted to say that he was picking Ollie up and bringing him to urgent care.

It was next to impossible to concentrate for the rest of the day. I was only half there. Throughout conversations, e-mails, phone calls, faxes, and a drive to Minnetonka, a baseline worry for Oliver drummed along underneath it all. I wanted to tell everyone I came in contact with that my son was sick, that I didn't know what was wrong, and that I wasn't there with him.

But Michael was, I kept reminding myself. And after my last visit of the day, Michael left a voice mail reporting the results: Oliver has enterococcus, a funky virus that's running rampant among kiddos. The symptoms are vomiting, diarrhea, fever, and a rash. Yep, pretty much the last two days. The treatment is to wait it out. That and to keep your kid home, because when a fever shows up, it's a sure sign that they're contageous.

So Ollie and his Daddy are getting lots of good father-son time in, as they spent another day together at home today. Michael and I are a bit suspicous about some of our own fluey muscle aches and turns of the tummy. So Oliver, the good boy that he is, pulled through his ailments and went for the pantry to make his Mommy and Daddy some soup.

He's a good boy.