“How’s Jack doing?”
I’ve been asked this question at least five times so far today. Each time I give the same answer in the same way, “Yeah…well, eh, mostly. He will be okay, I think. He’s just not feeling well after chemo yesterday.”
He was doing just fine last night. In fact, he was very energetic and LOUD, humming or squawking while playing with his Legos. It was overwhelming to me, as I’d just come home from my trip to Type A in Atlanta. I wanted quiet.
This morning, though, it was too quiet. Jack crawled on the floor from his bedroom to the living room. He laid down on the couch while eating breakfast and I covered him with a blanket while pushing play on iTunes so he could listen to The Postal Service at low volume. He ate his waffle slowly, and afterward he leaned on me to get to the bathroom to halfheartedly brush his teeth. Then I picked him up and carried him back out to the couch.
He talked in hushed tones and complained of stomach pain. I smoothed his hair away from his face as I took his temperature – 98.0 degrees. I asked if he wanted to try to go to school for a bit and see if he felt better. His big brown eyes squinted up at me and he said, “I just don’t have any energy, Mom.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll tell David to come home from work. You just rest,” I replied.
I looked at our finances while I waited for David to come home from work. I wondered if we could somehow make it work on one salary so that I could stay home full time with Jack. I worried this was a pattern that would not go away. I added and subtracted and, with a knot in my stomach, acknowledged that it was impossible – we have too much debt and a large mortgage payment.
I called the clinic to get confirmation of Jack’s ANC. The nurse told me it was sitting at 690, which is fairly decent but not great. She asked how he was doing and then said, “Call us if he isn’t feeling better by the end of the week.”
I called the school and answered the question again. Then I drove to work, where I told a few more people that Jack wasn’t feeling well. I got a call from my sister in the afternoon, and I spoke to one of the care providers at Jack’s after-school program – both asked and I explained in that halting way.
Jack’s okay…mostly. I think. We’ll see.