Speaking of supposed-tos...Tonight Em and I are supposed to go see the opening night of Baroy's show. N was supposed to go sleep over at his best friend's house; he hasn't seen WeeyumWise in two months, and they are pining for one another.
Last night, N felt warm to me. Took his temp; right around 100. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.
There are circumstances under which I might have pretended that never happened. After all, he woke up this morning with a temperature so low he might actually be dead. He's fine. I know he's fine.
But here's the thing: On Monday, we got a call from the Urgent Care where we'd taken Em on Saturday, because she'd been running a low-grade fever for three days and was complaining of a sore throat. And although the doctor there had sworn to me that Em did NOT have strep throat--that he was so sure of it he wasn't even going to do a rapid strep test, but would just take a culture 'to be safe'--guess what she had?
Which does not mean that N has strep. In fact, he's more likely to have whatever's been dogging me since Wednesday. I, too, had a low-grade fever and a slightly sore throat, so I hoofed it over to Urgent Care immediately, only to find out that I do NOT have strep. In fact, the doctor--whom I will never see again because I despised him and he pissed with off with every word he uttered--laughed at me and pointed out that in order to have strep you actually have to have a red throat, and mine was not even a little red.
But still. Not only is it POSSIBLE that he has strep, but Weeyum's mom has always been one to insist on canceling plans when either boy is even slightly ill. So I just couldn't drop my well-right-now-but-feverish-within-the-last-24-hours kid at her house.
Assuming he's fever-free, however, I will take him with me to the theater. Because I'm not going to miss this on the basis of a one-time so-low-it-would-be-OK-to-send-him-to-school fever. Even if I end up spending most of the play out in the lobby; I'll at least be able to be there for Baroy.
But damn. We've all been looking forward to this for months; Baroy to having his wife and daughter in the audience on opening night, Em and I to being there, N to seeing Weeyum. Plus, I just know--in that 'best laid plans' way--that N will end up spiking a fever at around 3:00 this afternoon, and that will be that; I'll have to stay home, and I'll resent the hell out of it.
I know there are worse things that can happen to a person, but it pisses me off irrationally. All I wanted was one fucking night to be there for my husband, one night to not have to be in the back of the room or on the outside looking in. I planned it all out, I juggled all the balls, I made it all work. But no.
I'm just pissed, is what I'm saying. Just totally pissed. At no one.