Falling Action

Hello and welcome to a first of March Saturday, here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is March 1st.  Hallelujah, February is behind us.

Like any good epic family saga, our season of Sick: Season 1 has finally graced us with some shiny moments - those events that feel extra fresh and cheery after the menacing thunderstorms have been endured and passed.

The Fourth Grader got his cast removed and managed to rollerskate at school and enjoy Friday Swim Day without incident. The Seventh Grader is thrilled to trade all the wet chores for her brother's dry chores. We were happy that the Fourth Grader could take a complete shower without any creative finagling. Okay, moment of truth: he took no shower during his 3-week wrist stint. Thank you to all those who may have endured a bit of stench or stinkiness during this period.

The Fourth Grader said, without a doubt, he'd rather have a broken leg for six weeks instead of a broken wrist for three weeks. Apparently, the full use of his upper appendages is in higher demand than his lower ones. I wonder what his third-grade self would say to that.

As for the rest of us, the Seventh Grader seemed her usual self. She's gearing up for turning 13 in a week. The sweet anticipation of becoming a "real" teenager keeps her brain occupied with healthy imaginings of all the possibilities.

My husband wore a stocking cap inside the house all week. I took this to mean he was battling some kind of bug but he wasn't going to talk about it because, as College Kid 1.0 tells us, talking about being sick gives it power. If you're feeling under the weather, the best course of action is deny, deny, deny.

I assume College Kid 2.0 is doing okay. Usually, with that one, no news is good news. A quick SnapChat lets me know he's alive and well enough to keep our streak going.

College Kid 3.0 swapped health troubles for financial troubles as he navigated life with a hold on his academic record due to a lost scholarship check, preventing him from registering for his next quarter's classes. There was a flurry of phone calls and quick strategy sessions to convince the Bursar's Office that, yes, the check was sent two months ago. He stuck with it, and by Thursday, he called to announce, "The saga has ended." I always did like his flair for the dramatic.

But I get it. Having $12,000 hanging in the balance and feeling like the situation is beyond your control can feel agonizing, frustrating, and just plain scary. If you're sick, at least that's a "you problem" - to use the kid lingo - and there's a whole lot you have in your realm of power to manage symptoms and nurse yourself to recovery.

Which brings me to me. 

After the stomach bug and the colonoscopy, you can imagine my chagrin when I noticed sniffles, swollen glands, and fatigue. 

This life really does feel like a storyline sometimes. I thought about narrative arc and where this particular scene lands. Good storytellers know that after their protagonists have successfully navigated the minefield of obstacles thrown in their way, the story must end. There must be some resolution. And hopefully, it's an ending that feels resolved - not necessarily a happy ending, but a sense of satisfaction that the journey traveled has been worth it. An ending has been earned. Good storytellers also know that you shouldn't make a story longer than it needs to be. At some point, it needs to arrive at The End.

I embraced my family's conviction in the best recovery and mustered all my mental energy to deny, deny, deny while I prescribed a steady diet of Vitamins C & D, fluids, and rest. We'd been through seven weeks (not counting the prequel December) of this saga. It was time to end. The colonoscopy climax was past us, and this little speedbump sniffle had to be the falling action. It was time to wind down. 

Last night, the Fourth Grader was experiencing tooth pain in a loose baby tooth that had a cavity in it. The only path to relief - and resolution to our sick saga - was to pull it out. 

"I'll do it," my husband texted me. But he didn't have to. The Fourth Grader used his final kid superpowers - tooth wiggling and tongue poking at the affected area - and yanked it out on his own.

Resolved, we step confidently into the month of March.

The End.