We had a rough morning, to put it mildly.  We got to school before Kids’ Club started (as usual, we have to be first every morning), and The Boy went and hid on a couch in the lobby.  I found him, and he proceeded to try to hide his eye from me.  In the space between brushing his teeth and arriving at the school (literally 6 blocks away), his left eye had turned bright red.  The Boy apparently thought it was pinkeye, as did I.  “But it feels better!” he wailed, because he knew he would have to miss school.

Missing school is this kid’s worst nightmare.  From time to time, I am even reminded of the dates he missed school in previous years.  “Do you remember when I missed school on February 10, 2009?”  That’s not to say he likes doing schoolwork, but he gets antsy on vacation, and being absent is catastrophic in our house.

We have become pinkeye experts after having it twice already this year, the second time for several weeks because it just. wouldn’t. go. AWAY.  But today, the sudden onset, the lack of “crusties”, and the unusual puffiness under his eye were telling me that we needed to see the doctor on this one.  I just wasn’t sure.

The urgent care clinic was not open for another half hour, which was just enough time to call my work, his school, and fail miserably at trying not to panic at missing work today.  It was also enough time for The Boy to rub his eye a whole bunch, and continue railing against this injustice he was experiencing.

At the clinic, I got another good look at his eye, and began to really worry.  Not only was it swelling up, the white of his eye was swelling.  I started to realize this was NOT pinkeye, but could be something MUCH worse.  I tried to contain my panic (and squeamishness).  Finally when the PA saw us, and took a quick look at his eye and said, “It’s not pinkeye,” both The Boy and I were elated. “It’s just some sort of allergic reaction.  He can go back to school, and I will give you a note for them saying it’s NOT pinkeye.”  We were both doing the happy dance.  Drops and benadryl, and then back to school.

After dropping The Boy back off to school (where he made a beeline for his classroom, not waiting for me to finish checking him in!), I drove to work, and was releasing such huge sighs of relief, I had to laugh at myself.

And then.  At the end of the day, after I had picked The Boy up from kids’ club, and we were just settling in for the evening at home, I got an email from his ASD teacher:

“Just so you know, this was one of my favorite days of being a teacher, because of The Boy.  1) He dealt with several new schedule changes (different from last year) very well. Balked at first, but thought about it and did great!  2) He left Sonic and Knuckles [his stuffed animal buddies] inside for recess- it took a little doing, but he did it and was fine with it.  3) He has never left from his classroom at the end of the day-always wants to leave from my room. We made a flow chart of the 2 choices I was offering, which were to A)Best Choice: go upstairs, write in your own planner, pack your bag, line up with the class and walk down with them when the bell rings at 3:38= Probably won’t be first to Kids Club, but that’s ok. OR 2) Second Best Choice: go upstairs, write in your own planner, pack your bag, leave the classroom at 3:35= Probably will be the first to Kids Club… Guess what he chose? Choice number 1!!!!! Did he make it? Yess! I secretly followed him down, he walked into Kids Club, smiling and happy!  SOOOO proud of him!”

He may remember the dates of the days he misses school, but I remember dates of days like this. 

I LOVE and LIVE FOR emails like this.

*beaming*