Homecare

After one day back at school in 2009, Nate is home sick today. He somehow contracted strep throat over the holidays, fully manifesting at 3:00 pm Christmas Eve. I was fortunate to find a lone doctor on call, still in the office doing paperwork, though they had closed for the holiday at noon. He kindly waited for us to get there, around 4:30, like Santa with a stethoscope and a prescription pad.

Fortunately we weren't on the road for Christmas this year as we usually are. We're the only members of our family that live in our area; our closest relatives live no less than a three hours' drive away. In years past, when I would agonize in mother-guilt about the kids never being in their home to open their gifts on Christmas morning, Nate excitedly informed me that our holiday tradition was to always be at a different grandparent's house when Santa visits. It was like we offered St. Nick his annual challenge: To figure out where to find the boys and which chimney to come down with their gifts. Actually, he continued with a big grin, it's more of a challenge to figure out how to get to us at home, since we don't have a chimney!

Nate's always been a joker.

Anyway, they let me know, when we began discussing traveling plans for this year's holidays, that they'd like to be home this year. Our plans to travel to California fell through, so they got their wish. And then Nate got his semiannual bout of strep. A bit providential, I tend to think.

He just finished his round of antibiotics on Monday. On Tuesday at 3:45, he came in the front door and collapsed, exhausted from the returning rigors of sixth grade. Today, when he woke up, he announced that he felt like he weighed two tons, was extremely dizzy with a headache and sore throat -- again. Low-grade temperature. He goes back to bed, and I go to set an appointment with his doctor. We see her later this afternoon.

Part of me wonders if this is because of school. He confided in frustration about a month ago that he still wasn't adjusting to middle school very well, still feeling insecure, overwhelmed, and having some trouble with bullies. I asked him last night about the bullying situation. He said it was probably going to be better this semester, since he's been reporting it, and the teachers announced a stricter anti-bullying program yesterday. But still...

Granted, that's just a small part of me. His temp has climbed past 100 since this morning. His symptoms are real. I know the mind is a powerful thing, capable of convincing us that we're sick when we're not, but I'm sure it can't cause a fever by unconscious anxiety.

I wonder why I still tend to approach my kid's medical needs like a mother and not like a doctor. I always thought that, once I started off towards a career in medicine, that I'd start diagnosing and treating my family, avoiding doctors that make the kids uncomfortable or who office way across town, avoiding co-pays and ridiculous insurance issues. Back to reality, Corey -- you're still in undergrad! Not even a medical STUDENT yet, much less a physician. How are you going to do the pediatrician's job?! Besides, I'll always be their mom. Mom will always be my first title. Even when I'm a doctor, I'll be Dr. Mom. That's a given. I can see a whole village of kids calling me Dr. Mom in their native tongue, whatever that is. Hopefully it's Dr. Mom and not "dumb white woman," or "she who thinks she can help."

I need to get started preparing for the killer-I-mean-challenging semester of classes ahead of me. I have a physics refresher book waiting on my bookshelf for me to read before I start classes in a couple of weeks. Only it'll be a primer for me, not a refresher, as I've never taken a physics class before. I need to decide if I will drop one of the (ahem) *challenging* classes I've signed up for in favor of a lighter political science that I still need to pick up, one that will better fit my day without having to put the family through scheduling gymnastics. And of course, I still need to attempt to set up physician shadowing. But there's a little boy in my bathtub right now, caught between puberty and Pokemon, battling a bug that we can't see, feeling off balance physically and a bit emotionally by the changes surrounding him and taking over. Whether or not he will regularly admit it -- at least not as regularly as he admits how weird his parents are -- his face tells me he needs me today.

So while I can hear physics prep work calling me, and I can feel the semester's preparations -- textbook buying, schedule perfecting -- tugging on my conscience, I am Mom today. And I will always be Mom.

Nothing satisfies me more.