I do love you so, I relish your company and, above all things, you keep me sane in this crazy ride that is motherhood.
But I’m afraid I won’t be able to see you for a while.
You know, it’s about Molly. The first coughs have hit us this season, and my heart has begun the jitters, my brain is whirring in pessimistic overdrive: Is that snotty nose a little green? Oh, your son had a restless night – illness brewing maybe? Don’t they say there’s still a risk of infecting others for 24 hours after a temperature?
I fall nauseous at the thought of our Miss Molly catching something – a cold, gastro, bronchitis. And with all the unimmunised children about now, deadly diseases seem to be winning the war of ill health. There are so many things which could bring her fighting gloves down and threaten her life.
You see, it was as simple as someone sneezing or coughing on her in the first place which gave her this damned disease. Just unlucky they said, that she managed to pick up one of the strains not covered in her immunisation. That pneumococcal illness – yes, that’s the same one which leads to meningococcal – is apparently very common, something many of us carry around in our nasal passages or throat. But most think it is just a cold their child has – and if they’re over two years of age they’re likely strong enough to fight it off. But not when they’re six months old, like our little Molly was. Then, it can kill you.
We were lucky, I’m well aware of that. Those medical magicians saved her life. But not before the bacteria ravaged her little hip, leaving her disabled and looking toward a life of extreme pain.
But my major worry is that a skerrick of bacteria still in her system might be given the chance to ark up and multiply again. You know, her body is down and out with a cold, and unable to keep under control, as it normally does, those couple of remaining mites that might be lurking.