I figured I’d spare everyone the eye rolling that a rerun of the Sick Day sign in yesterday’s blog might invoke. You can thank me later.
The trip to my allergist yielded a diagnosis of bronchitis and the hope that the Z-Pak and lots of Chipotle’s veggie bowls will make me feel better as soon as possible. The Z-Pak really has loosened up my cough to the point that I’m that horribly, obnoxious person, you know, the one you hate to hear sitting in a movie theatre or on a plane. But I am breathing easier, and I’m hopeful that I’ve finally kicked the fever to the curb.
I’m also trying to deal with the emotional carnage wrought by my #1 son’s hopefully former online girlfriend, the one we visited in Pensacola after he earned straight A’s for his entire high school junior year. The short version? She cheated on him before and after that short “vacation” with a local boy and finally admitted it to him Sunday.
Sunday. When I was in the throes of my illness, wracked with fever, and with the Mister and little brother gone to Kansas City, Missouri, for the disc golf world championships. I couldn’t even hug him for fear of making him sick. Not a great time to earn any mother of the year points, that’s for sure.
I feel sad for my son and his first heartbreak, even as I realize that this is what’s best for him. This long-distance relationship was doomed to failure, and I had hoped both of them would see its futility by the start of school.
But that doesn’t make dealing with its aftermath any easier. What 17-year-old boy wants to talk about matters of the heart with his mother? He’s hiding his true feelings, but I know he’s hurting inside. I keep reminding myself that time heals all wounds, and I know he’ll be stronger for the experience.
But, again, that doesn’t make the situation any easier. For either of us.