Tell Me Why

“A year, ten years from now, I’ll remember this;
not why, only that we were

here like this together.”

Adrienne Rich

I love being a mom. It was something I always hoped for, and something I truly enjoy. It is, however, something for which I was not fully prepared. Despite the countless hours of child development classes, babysitting seven younger siblings, and reading Parenting Magazine I still had many questions.

Even now, fifteen years later, I find that one question continues to resonate within my brain – Why?

Why did you tell our church clergy that “Mommy has a boyfriend named Jack”? Why did you fill the living room with water? Why did you stick a rock in your ear? Why did you eat the dog’s thyroid medication? And, why did you pluck ALL your eyebrows?

Even at this very moment I am mulling over one question – Why can my child be deathly ill for several days, and the moment I walk into the doctor’s office he is miraculously healed?

This month we at the Rancho fell victim to the infamous influenza virus. Amid the mountains of Kleenex, Tylenol, and disinfectant I wondered if it would ever end. Finally, after several days of quarantine, we seemed to all recover except the three-year-old who appeared to be on the verge of certain demise.

The poor child, who is usually a firecracker of energy, lay motionless on the couch. His eyes were glazed. His head was hot. His nose was red and he had a persistent cough that just wouldn’t go away. When he couldn’t be enticed to watch another episode of Dora I began to worry.

As an experienced mother I am not one to seek medical assistance too quickly, but as the day went on his condition worsened. And as luck would have it, it was 10:00 p.m. on a weekend.

At that moment I had a choice to make (remember I am big on choices). Tough it out or seek medical attention? As scenes of “worse scenarios” rushed through my mind I chose to take him to the hospital emergency room.

What happened next surely would have won me the $100,000 prize on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

The moment we walked through the hospital doors the poor child, who just minutes before was not coherent enough to tell me his name, jumped out of Mr. V’s arms and started running around the lobby without a single cough or sniffle.

He refused to wear the flu mask, jumped on the waiting room chairs, and had a full fledged conversation with the receptionist. (Mr. V and I tried to sneak out the back without being noticed, but it was too late.) He then went on to shake the doctor’s hand, recite a whole episode of Sponge Bob, and ask questions about every piece of medical equipment in view.

As the doctor looked at us with that “Why did you bring your kid to the ER?” look, I managed to stammer, “But he was sick!”

So, that brings me to another “Why”. Why should I ever pay another medical bill when all I have to do is walk through the door?