Man-Child...a source of constant worry.

After such a dry spell, what are the odds that Man-Child would be the source of yet another post?  Three in a row - what a streak!

Not this past weekend, but the previous one, found me driving up the mountain to get a glimpse of my boy.  This summer has found him in school and working thus leaving precious little family time.  We spent the day together and all was well.  As I left, I reminded him that this past weekend was Father's Day and that he should really make an attempt to come home to celebrate.  He agreed and a plan was set.

The following Monday, The Husband was chatting with him and it was revealed that Man-Child wasn't feeling very well.  A joke was made that the last time I went to see him Man-Child was ill after I left; turned out allergies were to blame, if I recall.

Carrying the joke just a bit further - that same weekend I had visited with a friend - who complained to The Husband when he dropped by to see the progress her husband was making on the wall that he was installing, that she wasn't feeling well...luckily her issues turned out to be allergy related.  Phew...I don't need any reason for everyone to think I'm the bearer of the plague.

Fast forward to last Thursday, when I received a phone call from Man-Child.  He was just leaving the student health clinic - that's when I knew this must be pretty bad.  He never goes there unless he has to (we can all take a moment to thank his father for this particular trait.  Okay, okay - I admit I might have the same trait but not to the same extent as these two).  The clinic announced that he had "bacterial pustules" on this throat and sent him away with an antibiotic.  I clucked over him and told him to start the medication and pain relievers immediately and to get some rest.

He was supposed to work on Friday so I wasn't expecting to see him until I woke up on Saturday - as he had planned to drive in after he got off work; meaning I would be sound asleep by the time he arrived.

Imagine my surprise when I drove up to the house after work on Friday to find his car at the house.  Apparently, he was in enough pain that he used the note the clinic gave him to get out of work.  Clue one that something was going on.

Clue two?  His eyes.  You know how when your little ones are really sick their eyes tell the truth?  I could tell he really, really didn't feel well.  When asked if he felt any better, he said, "a little."  I thought, "Okay, it's taking a little while for the antibiotics to kick in...let's give it a little more time."

Clue three?  He went to bed early.

On Saturday, he slept in.  Once he finally got up, he and I took a run into town to find a suitable Father's Day gift (yes, I have been procrastinating again).  Upon returning home a couple hours later, he went to take a very long nap.  Our original plan had been to take The Husband out to eat on Saturday and let him break in his new charcoal grill on Sunday.  Considering how bad Man-Child was feeling we decided to go out to eat on Sunday and plan to christen the grill another day.

By Sunday, I felt that surely there would be some improvement...particularly since Man-Child took to his bed fairly early again on Saturday night.

Come Sunday, I thought he looked a little better and he didn't seem to complain much.  We went out to lunch and I noticed he was only picking at his food and his eyes had "that look" again.  Usually, especially at this particular restaurant, he absolutely DEVOURS his food in record time and is eyeballing my plate with naked interest.

After getting back home, he took another nap.  After sleeping for a few hours, as I was reading on the back porch, I heard him and The Husband using loud voices.  I came in to see what was going on - apparently, The Husband was trying to talk Man-Child into staying since he still felt so ill.  And Man-Child was frustrated that he still didn't feel better and was feeling the need to get back to school for class and work today.

In a flash, I remembered that our doctor's practice has an after hours clinic on weekends.  How I remembered that, I'll never know as we haven't had to use the clinic for years now.  I asked Man-Child if he wanted to see the doctor before he went back and he agreed.  That was when I knew - without a shadow of a doubt - that this kid was sick, sick.

He insisted on following me to the clinic as he was planning on driving back up the mountain afterward.

At the clinic he was not to pleased that upon hearing about his sore throat they made him put on a mask.  Luckily, the clinic was not crowded.  We were in the waiting room for only about five minutes before being called back.  And then another five minutes before the doctor came in.  A miracle to be sure.  Maybe that's the trick - show up at the clinic an hour before they close...

The doctor was great.  Very thorough.  She talked with us and listened.  She examined Man-Child and announced that she wanted to take his blood.  She mentioned that the results would be back in just a few minutes.

True to her word, she came back to the examining room and announced that Man-Child has mono.  Ugghh!

As I mentioned in one of the previous posts - Man-Child is smack in the middle of a lot of stuff...finishing classes this summer and planning on student teaching this fall.  Not to mention, he's been trying to pick up as many hours as he can this summer.

The doctor stopped short of telling him to take the summer off - but stressed that this a viral issue.  Which basically means that we just have to wait it out.  And that the harder he pushes himself the longer it will take to work through.

She prescribed several things to help deal with the pain.  After spending an interminable time at the pharmacy, I felt sure he would wind up following me home.  He didn't.  He insisted on driving the two hours back up the mountain.  *sigh*  Stubborn boy.

I texted him this morning to see how he was feeling.  He responded with "meh"  which I assume is better than "arrgggh!"  Apparently, between the "magic mouthwash" and pain pills she prescribed he was feeling just a tiny bit better.  But not enough to attend classes or go to work, according to our most recent texts.

Why, oh why do they get sick when they can't be home?  Where I can make sure he is resting, eating all while monitoring his eyes?