Blog 5 - The Importance of Being Interventionist

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Late last night I had to rescue my baby.

His voice over the phone was the tone which sends Mothers' brains to that quiet place called instinct. Autonomic reflexes take over...vision becomes startlingly clear...breathing increases to quicken the flow of blood to the brain...not a wandering thought or unbidden image crosses the mind.... Cut through traffic just south of the "safely" line and get there as fast as humanly possible.

"Mom? I'm sick."

He was at his Father's house. I'm not saying his Father isn't a compassionate parent, it's just that...um... - ok, he's not a compassionate parent. He and his wife are lovely people, but empathy is not high on their lists of "good attributes to embody." They ignore their own crying children (SCREAMING children) and feel that showing concern creates "Mamma's boys." I've learned the hard way that even though they are competent parents, they cannot (will not) take care of Xander when he's ill.

And it's important to keep an eye on him when he's ill.

One night when Xander was doing "The Full Monty" his father brought him in with a fever. He'd had it all day. No one called me, and beyond that they didn't give him anything to reduce the fever.

I could have torn his Father's eyes out.

As the show's Stage Manager I had to make sure he went on, no matter what. As Xander's Mother I had to watch my baby writhing in pain backstage between scenes. I had to tell him he had no choice but to go on...and that killed me. I will never forget (or forgive myself) watching him throw up in the bathroom and making him hurry because his next scene was coming up.

All because his Father has the bedside manners of a troll.

You see, when Xander gets a fever, it isn't one of those wimpy 102 degree fevers - he gets those Monster Fevers. 105...106...106.4...I honestly don't know how high it could go because I've always been too busy panicking to stick a thermometer in his mouth. The first few times we ended up in the Hospital, and once the day care he was in called 911. It happens fast and it happens hard and it's fucking scary.

That's just the way his body rolls. I'm a little more used to it after 12 years, but there is always the fear of seizures or of THIS time being the one that cooks his brain. For some reason, his Father can't understand that.

So, late last night I had to rescue my baby.

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