What's playing on the X-box right now? Halo 3
There's neither good nor bad, it's thinking makes it so.
~William Shakespeare
My stomach always turns to chaotic mush whenever Indy gets sick. To begin with, I'm a recovering hypochondriac. I get freaked out when someone gets so much as a bug bite. Add to this the fact that Indy is a Phillips. Patrick and Zack were Biesemans. They rarely got sick and neither has ever had a feveral seizure. When Indy was much younger, he had two. I wasn't there for either, being at work for the first one, and out searching for a thermometer during the second one, but I heard they were scary as heck. What I was there for, was the following two weeks of on-again, off-again fevers and switching back and forth between Tylenol and ibuprofen, and no sleep and one ER room visit.
This morning he woke up with a fever. Not a bad one, thank God, 100, but still scary enough for his dad and I. When he has a fever, I go into combat mode. It's me vs the fever. I pull out the wet compresses, the fluids, the cotton clothing, the happy distractions and the Tylenol. I work around the clock to break the fever and keep it down.
Now, I know that fevers are natural, that they're the body's way of fighting infections, but after the previous nightmare of high fever fighting, I'd rather just stop the sucker before it gets higher than 99 degrees.
So I woke up happy that Indy was in great spirits, but a little frazzled at the fact that a fever woke him up at 6:45 am.
We got his fever down in about an hour or so and then kept him happily chilled out on the couch playing Halo. During the afternoon, he seemed so much better that we got Mike to help him ride his bike outside in the sunshine while we pulled weeds in the front yard.
It's been a few hours since then, and as fevers are wont to do, this one's trying (in vain, I'm hoping) to make a nighttime return. I'm getting suited up for the fight.
I've realized the wisdom in taking each moment, one moment at a time. Easy to say, hard to do.
But in a week like this past week, when I've gone from ecstatic (finding a donor match for Natalie!), to worried (Patrick flying out of NY in a blizzard) to celebrating (Zack's song on iTunes and Patrick's film acceptance into the Vimeo Film Festival) to crazy (dancing with all of the Chilean fans at Bang Data's video release party for the video directed by Patrick) to sad (Chile's earthquake the next morning) back to worried this morning over Indy's fever,
I've realized that every moment will be different from the next and if you're not living life in this moment, you're not really living life.
While Indy sits on the couch, playing with the X-box, I look through some music that I wrote while sitting alone, under a tree in Jackson Square in New Orleans. Karen, Mitchell and Patrick had already flown home before me and I was left with a couple of days to myself. It was the first time I'd traveled alone and I wanted to capture the moment. Here's a little of what I wrote.
"Van Ness" (June 4, 2001, 6:05 pm)
There are a few faces here that look like yours
those eyes that appear to have seen it all
how long has it been since you've seen the Ol' Miss
or heard the sweet southern drawl?
The rain's about to pour on me
and the wind's kicked up its noisy heels
but I've got no sense to head back indoors
I love the way this feels
I've got one night left in New Orleans
and what a stay it's been
but it's not the same trip it could've been
if you were here, my friend
I know you would've shown me things
and taught me things anew
I would love to see this place
the way I know you do
Here comes the rain, folks run for cover
the dixie band just doesn't care
someone's got to play for all us tourists
here in Jackson Square
Even if it never happens
somewhere in my dreams
you and I stroll slowly up and down
the streets of New Orleans.
"Jackson Square" (written in La Madeleine, June 6, 2001, 4:01 pm)
Good for him, wearing his caftan,
straw hat, beads and smiling face
I envy him, 'cause he calls this place "home"
and he's perfectly at home
here in this place.
This morning he woke up with a fever. Not a bad one, thank God, 100, but still scary enough for his dad and I. When he has a fever, I go into combat mode. It's me vs the fever. I pull out the wet compresses, the fluids, the cotton clothing, the happy distractions and the Tylenol. I work around the clock to break the fever and keep it down.
Now, I know that fevers are natural, that they're the body's way of fighting infections, but after the previous nightmare of high fever fighting, I'd rather just stop the sucker before it gets higher than 99 degrees.
So I woke up happy that Indy was in great spirits, but a little frazzled at the fact that a fever woke him up at 6:45 am.
We got his fever down in about an hour or so and then kept him happily chilled out on the couch playing Halo. During the afternoon, he seemed so much better that we got Mike to help him ride his bike outside in the sunshine while we pulled weeds in the front yard.
It's been a few hours since then, and as fevers are wont to do, this one's trying (in vain, I'm hoping) to make a nighttime return. I'm getting suited up for the fight.
I've realized the wisdom in taking each moment, one moment at a time. Easy to say, hard to do.
But in a week like this past week, when I've gone from ecstatic (finding a donor match for Natalie!), to worried (Patrick flying out of NY in a blizzard) to celebrating (Zack's song on iTunes and Patrick's film acceptance into the Vimeo Film Festival) to crazy (dancing with all of the Chilean fans at Bang Data's video release party for the video directed by Patrick) to sad (Chile's earthquake the next morning) back to worried this morning over Indy's fever,
I've realized that every moment will be different from the next and if you're not living life in this moment, you're not really living life.
While Indy sits on the couch, playing with the X-box, I look through some music that I wrote while sitting alone, under a tree in Jackson Square in New Orleans. Karen, Mitchell and Patrick had already flown home before me and I was left with a couple of days to myself. It was the first time I'd traveled alone and I wanted to capture the moment. Here's a little of what I wrote.
"Van Ness" (June 4, 2001, 6:05 pm)
There are a few faces here that look like yours
those eyes that appear to have seen it all
how long has it been since you've seen the Ol' Miss
or heard the sweet southern drawl?
The rain's about to pour on me
and the wind's kicked up its noisy heels
but I've got no sense to head back indoors
I love the way this feels
I've got one night left in New Orleans
and what a stay it's been
but it's not the same trip it could've been
if you were here, my friend
I know you would've shown me things
and taught me things anew
I would love to see this place
the way I know you do
Here comes the rain, folks run for cover
the dixie band just doesn't care
someone's got to play for all us tourists
here in Jackson Square
Even if it never happens
somewhere in my dreams
you and I stroll slowly up and down
the streets of New Orleans.
"Jackson Square" (written in La Madeleine, June 6, 2001, 4:01 pm)
Good for him, wearing his caftan,
straw hat, beads and smiling face
I envy him, 'cause he calls this place "home"
and he's perfectly at home
here in this place.
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