In sickness and in health...

My little one is sick. I spent the day just sitting with her, trying to get her to understand the concept of "plenty of liquids and rest", which was a hopeless task. It's strange to try to teach someone the act of blowing one's nose, and to have to try to convince anyone that if they would just eat that piece of toast they would feel better.

I am not a good nurse. I have never had patience for sickness, or anything to do with the human body. I don't think much about food until I'm hungry, don't exercise beyond my daily running around, and even hate to have to stop what I'm doing to pee. (If I can't say it here, where else can I say it? This is about sharing, is it not?) When a friend or relative is feeling under the weather, I share some sympathy and that's about it. I just don't have that part of the brain that says maybe that person could use some soup, or a new magazine to read while stuck in bed, or a fresh box of tissues. I don't say this with pride; I wish I could do or say the right thing to be comforting. But it's hard to teach an old dog good bedside manners.

When the patient is my daughter, it's a different story. I feel heartbroken watching her try to breathe through her little nose and I wince every time she coughs. I run to the store and get her anything I can think of to make her better and wring my hands over whether or not to call the pediatrician. I spend the whole day watching her for any sign of improvements, clapping when she finally drinks a whole cup of anything, practically crying when she gives me a smile for the first time in hours. And I get angry. I want to find whoever gave her those germs and make them suffer. I demand to know exactly why an innocent little child has to feel like her world is ending because she can't just breathe like she did a few hours ago.

In a day or two, God willing, she will be completely fine and will have forgotten the whole thing. And I will go back to counting to three to get her up the stairs to her bath, bargaining with her to pick up her toys, and looking forward to naptimes. But today she was my everything again. Perhaps that's my answer.