See that "superhero" up there? That is me. No, really it is. I am a worrier. I panic. I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop, as they say. I think I have always been that way. I'm pretty sure my mother never had to warn me to look both ways when crossing a street, stay in the shallow end, not talk to strangers or any of that. I always found myself telling those things to my friends who would look at me like I was crazy as if to say "Gah! You are not our mom. Where is your sense of adventure?" I like adventure, as long as it's indoors and well supervised. That's fun too, right?
Now that I am the mom, my worrying tends to limit my kids in their lives. I don't enjoy being outside for long. I'm scared to death of bugs (wasps mainly...or bees...or hornets...or anything with a stinger) and God forbid a dog be running loose. Just typing that makes me squirm. Summer is pretty boring around here because of that. I like my boys in my sights, because then I know they are safe. It wasn't until last year that I let my oldest start playing outside with friends, on their streets or in their homes. And sometimes when he rides off on his bike to go to his friends houses, I still get a little voice in my head saying "Gosh, I hope he comes back home safe to me." Insane? Perhaps a tad. Medicated? Not yet, but might be a good idea.
But, I think the time that my anxiety is at it's worst, is when one of my boys is sick. About 4 years ago now, my oldest came down with strep that turned into pneumonia. He was on antibiotics and steroids as well as breathing treatments. It was a scary time, but nothing we couldn't handle. That all changed on an August morning near the end of his course of medicine. He came into our room saying his mouth hurt. One look and we knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong. His entire mouth was so swollen and full of grape sized blisters, that his lips were turning outward. Well of course, we rushed him to his pediatrician. She took one look and said, "It's SJS. He has to get to the hospital, now!" So an ambulance was called. My husband rode with him, while I took our younger son to stay with a friend. I have never cried so hard as I did that day. I was terrified. I didn't even know what SJS was yet, or what caused it. All I knew was that my baby was on his way to the hospital in an ambulance and I wasn't sure exactly when I would get to him.
That was a scary two weeks. He was in Children's of Dallas that long, and while they were wonderful to us, I hope to never see that place ever again. If you aren't familiar with SJS (Steven Johnson Syndrome) I encourage you to educate yourself. I won't go into details here, but for to say that my son's was actually caused my the antibiotic he was on for the strep/pneumonia.
The aftermath of that illness,though, has been tough. I am thankful every single day that physically my son came out unscathed, but I think mentally that I did not. This only fed into my anxiety and ever since then when one of my boys is sick, I think about that morning in August. It doesn't help that since that time, my oldest has also had allergic reactions to several other antibiotics. We are now down to one more antibiotic choice for him. He's taken it once, and thankfully did okay.
And that brings us to current. My youngest was diagnosed yesterday with strep and a strep rash. His whole upper body and face is covered with red itchy bumps that make him look pitiful and send my mind lurching back 4 years. And while I know that he's not having an allergy, I am having to treat him with an antibiotic. That alone makes me stressed.
I'm a mother, and mother's worry. But some think that I worry too much, and I think they are right. But, this is just an insight into one of the reasons I always jump from bad to worse where my kids are concerned. You just never know. And I like to be in control, and in this case I cannot be.
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