Poor Jack hasn't had a very good week.
On Thursday, a bee flew into his hand when he was on the trampoline and stung him.
On Friday, he collided with another child at recess and ended up with a black eye.
On Monday, his eye was nearly swollen shut and oozing discharge. I took him to the doctor. The physician's assistant said that he may have gotten some dirt caught in his eye when he was injured. She wrote a prescription but advised me to monitor the situation before starting the drops. I don't know why she told me to wait. I wish I hadn't, because...
On Tuesday, Jack woke up with both eyes oozing and pink. I kept him home from school as a result. The school told me that I could bring him back the next day as long as he's started the course of antibiotics.
This morning, I took him to school. We went early so that he could go to running club. After running a couple of laps, he told me he was feeling sick. He looked really pale and was dry heaving a little. I brought him home, where he promptly threw up. Ugh.
My poor little buddy.
When I went to check on him after he had gone to sleep Thursday night (the night of the bee sting), I was struck by how, at this age, I could see both the baby he had been and the bigger boy he soon will be. As exasperated as I was that I had to bring him home sick from school before it even started this morning, I do admit to feeling a little thrill when I asked him if he wanted me to carry him to the car and he said yes. It was definitely a workout, but it won't be very long before he'll be too big for me to do that at all.
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