The Swine Flu has been snorting its way through Nashville, and Gus managed to wrangle himself what may have been a case last week*.
*He tested positive for flu and doctors assumed it to be the Swine Flu, since that is the virus that is going around, though they didn't test for the H1N1 strain specifically.
As a result, he was home from school Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday with a headache, a fever, and a runny nose. Pretty mild stuff considering the flu's LIFE THREATENING NATURE OH MY GOD NEWS ALERT NEWS ALERT SPECIAL CNN REPORT PAGING DOCTOR SANJAY GUPTA HERE'S HOW AT-RISK AMERICANS CAN PROTECT THEMSELVES FROM THIS VILE AND DEADLY EPIDEMIC THAT IS SWEEPING OUR NATION!
Hello! LARRY HERE. I just read your blog. (See my face? Not amused.) A five year old died of the swine flu in Nashville. Did you know that, Amanda? Did you read the paper? He was five. Just like Gus. So here you are with your nonchalance and swine flu humor, while just down the street, the disease is on a KILLING RAMPAGE. I'm not going to say it, but I'm going to make that serious man face that makes you feel like YOU ARE OPENING OUR FAMILY UP TO DEATH AND DESTRUCTION BY MAKING LIGHT OF GUS'S HEALTH SITUATION IN A PUBLIC FORUM. BAD KARMA! BAD WIFE! BAD!
On Tuesday, I hired a babysitter to stay with Gus while I was at work. And this happened.
And Thursday, he was ready to go back. Sort of. As I mentioned, school drop offs had been a little rough. But the day after I wrote about it, Gus evidently had a come-to-Jesus with himself and decided to man up. "I'm ready for school," he said, proudly. And to school we drove, and in to his classroom he marched. Two days in a row. But then came the sickness, and the absence, and I was sure the three days home would set him back, and sure enough, Thursday morning he woke up crying. Anxious.
"Do other kindergarteners sniffle at school and blow their noses?"
"Would the teacher let him get up to get a tissue?"
"Would it be mortifying?"
Which reminded me of when I was in 5th grade and my friend Billy sneezed so hard he FILLED his hands with green snot so that it was coming through his fingers and the whole class was all eeeeewwwwwwwwww BILL-LAY! (Poor kid. That is one of two memories I have of that boy. The other is of a giant scab on his temple that HE REFUSED TO PICK, so it just sort of dangled there. Half on. Half off. And it was all I could do not to just RIP it off his face, because it was SO RIPE FOR THE PICKING. We were studying the middle ages and peasants and I was all HOW CAN ANYONE CONCENTRATE WITH THAT SCAB CRYING OUT TO ME?)
Sorry. Anyway. While Gus was bemoaning the many obstacles to blowing his nose, he told me this interesting tidbit. He said "the teacher doesn't let us raise our hands when she's talking, and we're not allowed to talk unless we raise our hands."
I was all, let me get this straight: She doesn't let you raise your hand if she's talking? And you can't talk unless you raise your hand?
YOUR TEACHER IS A FREAKIN' GENIUS! What else does she say? Clearly we can all learn a lot from this brilliant woman.
And I'm adopting this rule at home. "SHHP! Hands up if you want to talk! Wait, no. Not yet. Because I'M talking."
Did I design this woman from scratch? I'm in love.
When we arrived, she welcomed Gus back and showed him where the tissues are and told him to help himself as needed.
He gave me a high five. And another. And he smiled and told me to have a nice day.
With not even a sniffle.