The Kids are Sick

Everything screeches to a halt.  This emergency preempts every other event, even your own funeral.  You can ignore your own headache or sniffles, you can make do with a little dizziness or chest pain, but when the kids get sick, the plant shuts down.  The benevolent dictator called Dad turns into a giant squishy.  The no-nonsense drill sergeant, a. k. a. Mom transforms into a soft Cuddlebear.  Out comes the Lysol, VapoRub, thermometers, Superhero PJs and chicken soup.  The domestic hospital zone now forbids screaming, shouting, laughing, running, jumping, fighting or barking. 

On the flip side of the coin, however, the kids getting sick proves to be a major disruption to life.  Mom or Dad may not be able to take off work, or else they’re welcome to miss if they also forgo wages for the day.  Urgent household errands or chores like fixing a broken washing machine or running to the store for bread and milk lands in the lap of an in-law, a grandparent or a really good friend (who doesn’t happen to be on vacation.)  And then, if the sickness is really serious, the insurance may not cover it, or the deductible (that was set high enough to reduce the cost of the premium) must be satisfied first.

It makes one yearn for the good old (old, old) days.  Although I’ll never know, I can imagine the scene of a hundred fifty years ago when most people lived on farms.  You could just take a day off plowing, planting or harvesting if necessary.  The neighbor may drop in to milk the cows for you, knowing that he might call on you for some help when he has an emergency.  You had a support group up and down the gravel road who would cook meals, tend to the chores or at least commiserate with you on the front porch. 

Our assembly-line culture makes little room for the kids getting sick.  If you can’t perform your menial task, someone else is standing in line to take your place.  Line stoppage means down time and down time costs the corporation money.  The pay may be good, but the forfeiture of comradery, family closeness and good will hardly makes up for the salary.  Too many people end up being wealthy paupers.  We may boast what we’ve gained, but we hide what we’ve thrown away.  One would hope that our society would find ways to cultivate the good things we’ve lost, while we maintain the prosperity we’ve achieved. 

Meanwhile, thank God for the church!