The Sick Weekend

There’s something to be said for having a routine illness in your house. Nobody’s hoping for anything serious, but the occasional “I don’t feel so good” has its advantages. Late last week, my daughter alerted us that she wasn’t feeling well. I’ll spare you the details, but there were frequent trips to the restroom involved. You can’t be too careful, so we made an appointment with the pediatrician. The bottom line: the actual, honest-to-goodness flu, Influenza. Not this bird stuff, but more serious than a bout of allergy, sinus, or a common cold. She was a sick little human.
I felt sorry for her. This hit her on Thursday, and on Friday she was invited to two simultaneous parties. It was going to work out well for her. The parties were three houses apart, and both included roadies for group dinners. Amazingly, both dinners were at the same restaurant. She was in a classic “worlds collide” circumstance. Two friends, who are not necessarily friends with one another, were having parties which involved dual locations. And yet, she would be able to fully participate in both events! What more could a girl want? What she did not count on was The Flu.
We were sitting around the house Friday night, feeling sorry for one another when we heard screaming from outside. It was good screaming, celebratory and squealy in nature. Without thinking, I looked at my flu-stricken friend and said, “party.” One of the girls had rented a limousine to transport everybody to dinner, and the screamfest roared right past our house. My daughter looked out the window, and must have felt like Johnny Cash in Folsum Prison. She had the blues. That limo was rollin’ round the bend, and she hadn’t seen the sunshine since she didn’t know when. She was stuck in Folsum prison, and time kept draggin’ on. That limo kept a-movin’. Not to San Antone, but to Shogun Japanese steakhouse. Of course, from my daughter’s point of view, they were just about the same. She was going neither place.
A couple of hours later, when we had recovered from the emotional blow, we heard more screaming. It was different screaming, but still the silly, fun kind. You guessed it: party number two. That group had returned from the Japanese steak house and was now running around the neighborhood. Some kind of outdoor game developed and the outside of our house became a staging area. There was fun and food on two fronts, and my poor teenager was in quarantine. She was emotionally tortured.
We watched a movie together that night, but I don’t really remember what it was. All I remember is the sad, sick eyes of a pitiful teenager longing to scream free. The good news is we were together.
A couple of days later, #1 son began making frequent trips to the restroom, himself. Double trouble. His illness has been a little less dramatic, but no less noteworthy. This is a 16-year-old boy with a driver’s license and his own car. He did not leave the house on Saturday. The magnitude of that can’t be overstated. How sick was he? He sat through a screening, without moving, of “Must Love Dogs.” If you haven’t seen this movie, trust me: There is absolutely nothing in it for a teenage boy. From a middle-aged man’s point of view, there is one redeeming aspect. Diane lane is on camera a lot. She’s the star of the movie, and that’s what got my attention. The film itself was pretty stupid, but hey, we were all together.
That’s the silver lining of this whole weekend of sickness. The four of us, plus the dog and the cat, spent hours together in the same room. That doesn’t happen very often. We compromised on movies and meals. The sick were cared for and kept one another company. The weekend was low-key despite all the screaming. It turned into a nice family event. So, don’t let a little sickness bring you down. It might just bring you together.

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