Emergency Room

This past week has been a rough one at our house. It started as a sore throat, but grew into a huge sneezing, headache, no appetite, achy bug. All three of us have been lazy, spending the days wrapped up in blankets and wiping our noses. And a couple nights ago, it got even worse.

Millie had been fighting it, too. We were running the humidifier in her room, were giving her Tylenol, and made sure she was getting plenty of fluids. But one night, she woke up crying. We weren't able to calm her down, so we brought her to the couch. Sky laid her across his chest and stroked her back, and she kept very still (which never happens). Her sobs got louder and more urgent, and her whole body became rigid as she screamed and cried. Sky and I looked at each other. "Should we take her to the ER?" I asked him. He nodded right away.

As I picked her up and tried to hush her, I began crying, too. Maybe it was just the exhaustion of the last few nights, but it felt like everything in me was spilling open. I felt so helpless not being able to make her better. But Sky urged me to get ready, so we grabbed the keys and opened the door to the chilly night air. I sat next to Millie in the backseat, and she calmed down enough to watch me in silence, her face fixed in a stony, serious expression.

There was no wait in the emergency room, so we headed to an exam room while Sky parked the car. The nurses smiled at Millie and she grinned back as if it were a grand adventure. "I promise you that she was hysterical just a few minutes ago," I told the nurses. They smiled and nodded, saying it happens all the time. After a quick checkup, it was determined she didn't have an ear infection (what we started to suspect)- just the same thing that Sky and I had the past week. They applauded us for the Tylenol, reminded us to keep doing what we'd already done, and we were sent on our way back home.

Millie fell asleep right away once she was back in her crib, and Sky and I returned to our usual spots on the love seat to finish a movie before walking past the vitamin C bottles and heading to bed. As we pulled the covers up under our chins, I said, as if discovering a new truth, "I love you." It felt like a confession. "I love you." The weariness we both felt turned everything a little desperate, and I choked back more tears. There have been so many, many times in our marriage that we haven't been on each other's sides, that we've been enemies who fight against each other with all our strength. And it felt so nice that night to not have the energy for fighting, and to fall back into each other, fighting together towards a common goal instead. I thanked him for driving us to the ER, and he thanked me for thinking we should go.

I don't remember what we said before we finally fell asleep and left the day behind. But the next morning, I found a note from him- a rare note, in his handwriting, reassuring me he'd be home from work soon. And the best part was that it was reassuring.