I dread the children getting sick, for so many reasons--I don't like surprises, it throws a wrench into my plans, I don't know how to deal with it because I don't know how to fix whatever is wrong with them, and when I do take them to the doctor, most of the time even the doctors never say with certainty what the problem is. They waffle for a bit with "well it could be" and "probably" "we think..."
Why don't kids come with little flash-drive type ports? That way, I could press their nose or something and out would pop (preferably from an orifice not already associated with input or output) a little diagnosis. "More carrots" or "Lots of rest, warning: child will vomit three times in the next 5 hours" or "dysplastic mole; please remove within next 6 months" or even "swelling on knee due to trauma suffered while child was trying to do 'the worm' on a cement sidewalk, despite his recollection that he was hit by a frontloader, which is bogus." That way, I would spend less time binge-eating while stressing over the unknown.
Yesterday morning out of the blue, I got a call from the MTC health office. EJ was going to be seen by an offsite health care professional for a small problem (which I am not going to divulge).
Now the whole issue here is not "ooo, EJ is sick!" (he's not) The issue is:
I can't do a thing about it! He's too far away; he's in a cloistered situation; he can't call me; he's an adult so TECHNICALLY they don't have to tell me anything (he had to sign a release form so I could get information). All of this put me in a bit of a dither--not an angry dither, but an I-can't-do-a-thing-about-it-yet-I-can't-stop-the-imagination-from-running-AMOK dither. And I don't like dithers. I got hardly anything done yesterday. My to-do list that I had written out that morning reminding me of chores like: exercise, shower, make dinner, write letter, do laundry etc, suddenly seemed only to say EAT ICE CREAM AND WANDER AROUND THE HOUSE LIKE A LOST PENGUIN (I waddle).
Finally I was able to talk to the health care professional who examined EJ and the nurse at the MTC and all fears were allayed and we are assured that he will live (no, we didn't think he was really going to die) and that medication was dispensed.
(but part of me still thinks there is stress eating to be done)
(and I get mad at myself a little sometimes because I think I shouldn't feel stressed about it. EJ is an adult and perfectly capable of dealing with issues on his own and he doesn't need his mommy tending to him anymore. I've never thought of myself as a hovering mother, but I worry that perhaps I am. I don't want to be)