It could be worse
4.28.09
When the phone rang last night at 11:15, I thought it was Alex, calling to say that his plane had landed safely once again at his out-of-state job. Instead, it was Sean calling to say that he’s had a cough since Thursday, and now it’s turned into a fever and a sore throat. (For a voice major, this is not a good thing, but I’m not going to get all hysterical about swine flu.)
How did he know he had a fever?, I wondered aloud. (A dumb question, perhaps, but I was trying to sound like I knew what to do.) Well, he’d gone to see his friend Lauren, who said he seemed hot and happened to have a thermometer for just such occasions.
Sean was calling to see if I would take him to an urgent care. Now, I know some parents would have said something to the effect of, “Well, dear, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, but you’re in college now. I’m sure you’ll find a way to take care of it.”
For better or worse, that’s not what I said. I said instead that I’d try calling the urgent care to see how late they were open — I thought it wasn’t that late, and I was right. And clearly this wasn’t the stuff of an emergency room visit.
So, Plan B: while we spoke, Lauren (good friend that she is) was logging on to the UW Health Center web site to make an appointment for Sean today. I was very impressed that you could do that — log on at any time and make an appointment. Nice service!
Sean asked if her thoughtfulness and caring made her a candidate for the “marriage list.” We have a running joke that when girls are very nice to him, sometimes they make the fictional list that I keep of those who are eligible for him to marry. I thought for a second, realized how grateful I was that Lauren was taking care of him in my absence, and said that for sure she makes the cut — with his blessing, of course.
Anyway, she succeeded in getting him an appointment at 8:30 this morning, so we left it that Sean would go to the appointment, and then if he felt that he needed to be seen by someone else, he could come to my office, and we’d think about what to do next. I also said I’d leave my cell phone by my bed, and he could call anytime during the night if he needed to without waking up Claire. He didn’t call, which was a good sign. I guess. (I mean, what if he was so sick that he couldn’t call? But let’s not go there.)
This morning he called to say that the appointment at 8:30 turned out to be one at which you could see a nurse only, and he was feeling like he really wanted to go a step further to see a doctor. (No offense to the nursing profession whatsoever!) For that, you had to wait until 8:30 to call, but because he was already headed there at that time, he asked for an appointment in person. That they could give him at 3:30 today.
I asked what he wanted to do: keep the appointment, or cancel the appointment and try to get in to his regular doctor or the urgent care. It was all I could do to refrain from giving advice and telling him what to do, but I did it: I asked him what he thought he should do. He said he was feeling a little better and would keep the 3:30 appointment. After that, if he still felt he needed to be seen by someone else, we’d figure it out.
He didn’t sound at all convinced by his answer, so I couldn’t resist calling back and leaving another offer to take him somewhere else before 3:30. Darn! I’d been doing so well!
This is hard, but it could be so much worse. I’m thinking of a friend whose daughter, a college freshman in New York City, had mysterious pains that led her to a hospital and nearly into an appendectomy before they realized that it was something else much less serious. And then there’s another acquaintance whose daughter, a freshman in Colorado, actually did have to have an appendectomy before the mother could catch a plane to be with her.
And so I sit here, trying not to meddle, and trying not to worry. Those other parents faced far worse fears and worries, and their kids are much stronger, I’m sure, for having handled their situations on their own, with their parents necessarily held at a distance. I’m lucky that I can be here for Sean, but there’s learning and growth to be had by children and parents alike when kids handle these things themselves.
So, I think I’ll just sit tight until after the 3:30 appointment and then hear what Sean thinks he (we) should do then. Maybe he’ll be feeling great, and my concerns will all have been for nothing.
How did he know he had a fever?, I wondered aloud. (A dumb question, perhaps, but I was trying to sound like I knew what to do.) Well, he’d gone to see his friend Lauren, who said he seemed hot and happened to have a thermometer for just such occasions.
Sean was calling to see if I would take him to an urgent care. Now, I know some parents would have said something to the effect of, “Well, dear, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, but you’re in college now. I’m sure you’ll find a way to take care of it.”
For better or worse, that’s not what I said. I said instead that I’d try calling the urgent care to see how late they were open — I thought it wasn’t that late, and I was right. And clearly this wasn’t the stuff of an emergency room visit.
So, Plan B: while we spoke, Lauren (good friend that she is) was logging on to the UW Health Center web site to make an appointment for Sean today. I was very impressed that you could do that — log on at any time and make an appointment. Nice service!
Sean asked if her thoughtfulness and caring made her a candidate for the “marriage list.” We have a running joke that when girls are very nice to him, sometimes they make the fictional list that I keep of those who are eligible for him to marry. I thought for a second, realized how grateful I was that Lauren was taking care of him in my absence, and said that for sure she makes the cut — with his blessing, of course.
Anyway, she succeeded in getting him an appointment at 8:30 this morning, so we left it that Sean would go to the appointment, and then if he felt that he needed to be seen by someone else, he could come to my office, and we’d think about what to do next. I also said I’d leave my cell phone by my bed, and he could call anytime during the night if he needed to without waking up Claire. He didn’t call, which was a good sign. I guess. (I mean, what if he was so sick that he couldn’t call? But let’s not go there.)
This morning he called to say that the appointment at 8:30 turned out to be one at which you could see a nurse only, and he was feeling like he really wanted to go a step further to see a doctor. (No offense to the nursing profession whatsoever!) For that, you had to wait until 8:30 to call, but because he was already headed there at that time, he asked for an appointment in person. That they could give him at 3:30 today.
I asked what he wanted to do: keep the appointment, or cancel the appointment and try to get in to his regular doctor or the urgent care. It was all I could do to refrain from giving advice and telling him what to do, but I did it: I asked him what he thought he should do. He said he was feeling a little better and would keep the 3:30 appointment. After that, if he still felt he needed to be seen by someone else, we’d figure it out.
He didn’t sound at all convinced by his answer, so I couldn’t resist calling back and leaving another offer to take him somewhere else before 3:30. Darn! I’d been doing so well!
This is hard, but it could be so much worse. I’m thinking of a friend whose daughter, a college freshman in New York City, had mysterious pains that led her to a hospital and nearly into an appendectomy before they realized that it was something else much less serious. And then there’s another acquaintance whose daughter, a freshman in Colorado, actually did have to have an appendectomy before the mother could catch a plane to be with her.
And so I sit here, trying not to meddle, and trying not to worry. Those other parents faced far worse fears and worries, and their kids are much stronger, I’m sure, for having handled their situations on their own, with their parents necessarily held at a distance. I’m lucky that I can be here for Sean, but there’s learning and growth to be had by children and parents alike when kids handle these things themselves.
So, I think I’ll just sit tight until after the 3:30 appointment and then hear what Sean thinks he (we) should do then. Maybe he’ll be feeling great, and my concerns will all have been for nothing.
