Little Man has mono.
Poor little fella; his entire body is covered in the freakiest looking rash I ever have seen. One of those ones where you have to be really careful not to make the gagging noise when you look at your child (not a safe place to be for me).
This delightful little bug first entered our home about ten days ago, when Little Man got a fever and started complaining about a sore throat. Now, one thing you need to know about LM; his drama factor is out the roof! He used to freak out so badly when we trimmed his nails (yes, trimmed his nails) that we actually called the doctor to see if there was any possibility at all that he could be experiencing pain in his fingernails and that they might be yelling at him to stop the torture as we ripped their already dead heads off. Confirmed: no feeling at all.
That’s what we thought.
So when LM started griping about how he was “gonna die” because of the pain in his throat, I got out a piece of paper to help him compose his Acadamy Awards acceptance speech.
And I ignored his complaints.
Three days later, fever was gone, but he was still complaining of a sore throat. Ok, time to look. YOWZA! Nasty! Giant swollen tonsils, but not much else. Figuring it was strep throat, I took him into urgent care where they said (after seeing him for about 25 seconds), “It’s either tonsilitis or strep, and we treat them the same. We can run a strep test, but it is an extra $50 for the same treatment.”
Skip the $50 (and the shoving of a rod down LM’s throat…no thank you) and give him the antibiotics.
“Oh, one more thing to consider, Mrs. W. I guess it could be mono.”
What? Mono? Have you seen this kid playing?!?! I don’t think so.
But something about that word stuck with me.
Fast forward 7 days to a mid-day siesta at Yogurt Moutain, when over a sea of cookies and cream, gummy bears, and sprinkles, I smiled at my little antibiotic-filled almost 8-year old, and stopped dead in my tracks. “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT?!“
A network of red dots was making its way out of his shirt and up to his face. “Buddy, let me see your tummy.” And this is what I saw:
That’s just not good.
So back to the doctor we went, with a “confirmation” that he was having a delayed allergic reaction to amoxicillin. Instructions from here: take him off the meds immediately and give him Benadryl if he gets too uncomfortable.
“Oh, and one more thing, Mrs. W. It may be mono. We’ve seen this rash in mono patients who are given amoxicillin.”
There’s that word again! Mono.
So off the meds he went. The rash flared and Benadryl was given.
The next morning, Little Man starts throwing up.
Are you kidding me?! This just can’t be right.
And once again, for the third time in 8 days, we went back to the doctor. But before we did, I looked up his strange symptoms online and was met with one word: mono.
No way in the world.
My child hasn’t stopped moving for one second! I knew mono as “the kissing disease”; you know, the one you get from swapping spit? The one that makes you so tired you can’t get out of your bed for a month? Not the headache, fever, sore throat, weird rash, strep-like creature invading my mini human’s body.
Doctor number three gave us the final verdict; the clarification we had been needing: Little Man…positive with mono.
Maybe it’s from all the handrails I can’t get him to stop licking.
Maybe now, he’ll stop licking them.
Anyway, the good news is that he is doing just fine. What could have been (or still could be) a pretty significant setback to the fun free-for-all of summer seems to not be slowing him down a bit.
But it did get me to thinking: in my life, germs are the enemy. Specifically, anything that could make you see your lunch a second time…and not in leftover form. The school year in particular, brings on Aug-May anxiety as daily I dip my children in the sees pool commonly referred to as “school”. So come May, I am FINALLY able to breathe a sigh of relief as I can fear not the germ while the sun shines high.
Or maybe not.
Little Man’s encounter with the microscopic antagonist has been a life lesson to me reminding me that I am once again (dang it) not in control. Not even of when I can choose for my child to be healthy or ill. Beyond the lack of control, it reminds me that God does not operate on a time line. He doesn’t say that the sun can only shine from 7am-9pm (think of Alaska!) or that there can only be 365 days in a year (think of Leap Day!) or that there can only be germs during the school year.
There is no doubt that the unpredictability of God can be anxiety producing…if we let it. I certainly more naturally fall into that category than any other. However, I have decided in the past year that maybe there is another side to God’s “flexibility”, if you will, that I may rather enjoy. That perhaps I could revel in the not knowing, in the uncertainty…in the surprise. Like riding on a surfboard above rough waters, it’s all smooth sailing while the sea churns beneath.
Maybe, just maybe, it could all be fun.
Is that crazy to think?
Meanwhile, what unpredictable thing is God doing in your life today?