Merriam Webster defines pain as, “physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury.” It is as subtle as the burning sensation in tired eyes felt with every blink and as agonizing post-operative healing without medication. It is also everything in between; gut-wrenching stomach pangs, dry sore throats, pounding headaches, throbbing sinuses, and internal distresses felt from your ears to your toes.
But a parent and a caregiver knows it as so much more. We know it as the sting in our hearts when we see a child or loved one helpless, the anguish in our bellies because “we are sick again,” the shock and awe that that frail, emaciated young body is your poor daughter after months of recovering from virus after virus. It is the frustration when you just want to see your child giggle, run and play versus curled up in the fetal position with tear-stained cheeks. It is the pain felt in the darkness when there has been no break in day.
The last six months in our household have been trying. The physical strain that has come with this last season is one for the books. After monthly trips to urgent care, two late night E.R. visits, two surgeries and two more on the calendar, countless ear infections, too many hours waiting for prescriptions to be filled and almost 10 weeks straight of being sick, we are tired of being sick. At times, I think my children have forgotten what it feels like to be well.
There’s no doubt that I’m a “glass half-full” kind of gal, but I’m starting to strain to see the rose color in my glasses. I know this too shall pass but I pray it will pass sooner rather than later. We are not interested in any Guinness Book of World Records for the number of viruses we can mutate and redistribute in one season.
I will end on a positive note. I still stand by the need to take one moment at a time and in each moment seek the joy. For each crack of a smile, unannounced giggle, bout of childish energy or sneaky hug around the legs is a ray of sunlight through the clouds, and they all must be cherished.