Reminder, someone always has it worse

There are times one needs to be reminded of how good he or she has it. Okay, that is a little too schmaltzy a sentiment, let me put it another way: Reminder, someone always has it worse.

February 16, 2012
I took the day off from work to spend it taking care of the neo-sick Sienna. I say neo-sick since she has had a lingering cough for about 8 days now, yet no temperature, yet no appetite, has not been herself and fell asleep in Danielle's arms a couple of nights ago.

Coincidentally she had her one year Doctor appointment on February 15, the Doctor took a listen and said to keep Sienna fluided up. Maybe not her exact words, though that is the sentiment.

I spent the day crawling after Sienna with a bottle of milk, dirtying nine baby spoons as I tried her on different food, and generally wore myself out. Not the end of the world, it has been a long couple of weeks and both Danielle and I are tired. Seeing it in writing: wa wa wa, us.

But I'm not there yet on the point of this entry.

February 17, 2012 - Subway ride
I get myself all dolled up for work, take a crowded subway ride in, and would really rather be hanging out on the couch. Still, I'm employed, the company I work for were totally cool with my last second taking a day of yesterday and I never have any doubt the check will cash.

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry.

February 17, 2012 - Elevator ride
I stuff myself into a crowded elevator, the second to last person on, as it will be a four stop trip to where I'm going. The last person on it my friend Porthia (not her real name). She asks me if I'm look forward to the long weekend. I smile, knowing she has children, I'm likely to get an ounce of parent sympathy from her.

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry. Though I probably sound like an attention hog or something I shall point out (a) it involves my child and (b) you have all sounded worse at some point.

The elevator continued to the sixth floor aka stop one. At that point the head of the departments, Jefferson gets on. Jefferson is a stoic man, perfect in a bar for hanging out, yet perfunctory at work. Jefferson also has kids, Porthia and I are continuing our conversation. I loop Jefferson in.

"You've got kids, you know how this is."

"Yes," Jefferson said, "my son threw up all day yesterday. He has a stomach flu. He sips water, throws up; sips water, throws up."

That is terrible. I have actually had that same exact sickness. You get to the point where you don't want to drink anything.

"How old is he? Does he know what's going on?"

"He is five and half. All he knows is that he is thirsty, wants water, and keeps throwing it up. If he isn't able to keep anything down by noon my wife is going to take him to the ER."

But I'm still not there yet on the point of this entry. Believe it not.

We keep talking as the elevator gets to 15, though Sienna's sickness doesn't seem SO bad at this point.

February 17, 2012 - Elevator ride at 15
The elevator opens up, Chinzia gets on. Jefferson, Porthios, and myself stop talking about our children's problems. I'm trying to remember is whether Chinzia is the co-worker who had an 8 year old child die from medical complications. I saw out on paternity leave when it happened last year. No, I recall, it was someone different.

I don't think it is a surprise when I say I am now at the point of this entry. Actually, I am pretty sure I have already made it.

Wayne