Sick Kids and Gratitude

Laurel has been sick this week. She's not really eating anything because her throat is so sore. We even let her dig into her Halloween candy, but one bite made her cry out in pain and she abandoned the mini Hershey bar. The only thing I can get into her is chopped up bits of a popsicle, fed one at a time with a spoon. She spent the better part of Monday and Tuesday crying inconsolably. She'll only nap if we're holding her.

When I wasn't wallowing in self-pity (I have been battling my own health problems over the last two months, so just getting through the day without caring for other sick people has been a challenge), I had a flash of solidarity with mothers around the world. And my empathy immediately morphed into gratitude. Gratitude that Laurel has access to a pediatrician and antibiotics and that we don't worry about her actually having most of the serious childhood diseases, because she's been vaccinated. Gratitude that we can be reasonably assured that our drinking water is clean, and that I have the money to go to the drug store on our block and spend $6.00 on a bottle of pain reliever, to ease her symptoms. Gratitude that we are indoors and even when teenage trouble makers are roaming the streets slashing tires (they got our car), we are without the worries of those living in active war zones.

It's really terrible to watch your child cry, and not be able to do much to relieve their discomfort. How much more terrible would it be to know the solution was in something simple, like food or water or a mosquito net or an antibiotic? What if instead of knowing this is a simple infection or virus that we have to weather for a week, I had real doubts that Laurel would even survive?

The 7 billionth baby was born this week. Check out these graphics that I used to discuss ratio and proportions with my math students.