Antibiotics are a good thing

Friday Jill pulled me out of my pathetic state with an invitation to go sit in the sun.  We went to Starbucks--she got some sort of icy frothy looking drink and I got a smoothie to go smoothly down my tired-of-all-the-coughing throat.  We were waiting in line for our drinks.  It was all lovely until Mark called.

Minutes before I had left Mark in Emma's able care, he had told me his ears hurt.  My ears had been hurting off and on too.  All part of the fun.  I gave him a Sudafed and an Advil (I'm not shy with medicine) and told him he'd feel better soon.

Well, not soon enough for his taste.  He called to tell me his ear huuuuuuuurt.  I told him to get comfy, watch TV.  I would be home soon.

Jill and I settled down outside at a table in the sunshine.  It was all lovely until Emma called.

She called to tell me that Mark had thrown up because he was coughing and crying so hard.  (A bit of a flair for the dramatic, that one?)  I told her to get him in the red recliner, turn on a DVD for him.  Get him to calm down.  I had confidence in the Sudafed and Advil.  I had confidence that sitting in the sun and chatting with Jill was what I needed.

Then I got a text.  From Emma.  "Please come home.  He's crying."

OK.

Jill and I left.  "Come and sit on my patio," I told her.  I checked on Mark.  I asked him if he wanted to sit outside in the sunshine with me.

"No," he said cozily, snuggling under a fleece blanket, "I'll just stay here."  I left him watching his show and Jill and I sat outside.

For about 30 seconds.

Then we heard wailing.

"Is that Mark?" Jill asked.

I went to check.  It was.

"My eeeaaaarrrrr," he wailed.

Jill went home (can you blame her?).  I drove Mark to the walk-in clinic.  As I was driving there, I thought, this is ridiculous.  The kids ears had hurt for all of 2 hours and I was taking him to the doctor?  The doctor was going to say, "Yep.  He has a cold."

Mark happily played on my phone in the waiting room.  He seemed chipper and happy.  He had, after all, what he wanted.  Me.

We went into the exam room.  He spun on the doctor's swiveling chair while we waited.  I thought, "This kid is not that sick."

The doctor came in.  He checked Mark over.  He looked in his ears.

"Ear infection," he said.  He wrote me a prescription and sent us on our way.

In the van, Mark wanted my phone.  "I need to tell Emma," he said.

"Are you going to call her?" I asked.

"No.  Text."

It's weird that that is how they prefer to communicate but I sort of like it too.  I like having documented proof that they are sometimes sweet to each other.

I gave Mark his antibiotics and kept him on a steady stream of Advil for the first day and he's been perfectly fine ever since.  He happily swallows his pills on schedule.

When I'm sick, I'm always glad for antibiotics.  When my children are sick, I feel like antibiotics are the best thing in the entire world.