Sunday, February 11, 2018


Shirt says,
 “I’ve got MOVES you’ve NEVER SEEN”
Boom!  He’s grounded.  Until Easter.  

Yeah, we tried to make it work this winter.  He’s doing so well.  But more and more I’m hearing about how bad the flu season is, more people around here are getting sick, more children are dying.  We still haven’t reached the peak according to reports I’m seeing.  And it’s just not worth it.

While mortality rates haven’t hit as high as some years, the number sick are rivaling the year the swine flu made it’s debut.  And as long as people think they just “have to” go to church, the store, the hockey game (seriously!!), we’re not taking those chances.

He’s still going to school, but see, he goes with a nurse whose primary focus is keeping him well.  His school is very careful to watch for any signs of illness, any of them, and quickly exclude the child.  And his nurses think nothing of calling me and saying, “today doesn’t look like a good learning environment for him.”  Code speak for someone looks germy.  Nobody there is thinking the world will end if they happen to miss a day.

And frankly, that’s the crux of the matter.  The world in general will go on, in fact, it probably won’t even realize you missed a day.  Yeah, there may be some assignments that need to be made up.  Someone else will have to pinch hit for you.  That’s why I even have a job.  I substitute when a teacher can’t make it to work.  Is it ideal?  No.  But is it worth killing someone over?  No, it’s not.

But most people don’t see it that way, so I have to.  It’s okay.  We’ll just stay home and try to keep him safe.  And when spring comes (the real one, not just this lack-of-winter season we’ve been having) we’ll come out of hibernation with the rest of the animals.

Eight years ago today, we had an ultrasound that rocked our world, changed my whole focus.  I never dreamed my life would look like it does now, but that’s okay.  I’m a better person for it, more focused, more grounded.  And I’m not looking for it to change any time soon.

And that trach change that Michael said he wanted to do?  Yep, last Sunday night he did one.  My 11-year-old son changed his brother’s trach and did a fine job of it, too.

Better a thousand times careful than once dead.

1 comment: