Maxine, my 13-year-old, sometimes gets migraines. We took her to a neurologist a few years ago, who was able to rule out a physical issue, such as a brain tumor, but she could only guess at the causes. Hormone-induced? Light-sensitiveness? Diet-related? I began keeping a journal, noting her diet, the times of day the migraines would come on, the frequency, duration, etc., but we never really discerned a clear pattern. Then, they seemed to subside, and when one did return, she wasn’t in too much pain, and ibuprofen usually did the trick.
These past few weeks have seen a resurgence. Last night was especially bad. Maybe it was a full day of skiing in the bright sun? Too much gluten (grasping at anything here)? Another growth spurt? Whatever the cause, it knocked her flat. She was in bed by 7:30 and never made it down for dinner.
When I checked on her, her skin felt hot. She looked listless. I started to sweat and went for the thermometer. The tragic article I read in the newspaper a few weeks ago about children who had succumbed overnight to COVID started running through my mind. Did I do this? Have I been too lax since I got vaccinated? Did we spend too much time in the ski rental shop this morning? Wait, COVID doesn’t show up that fast.
I tried to turn on the thermometer, and it gave out a low battery notice. I kept pushing the power button and eventually got the beep I was waiting for. Three readings later, I was satisfied with the 96 degree measure (it tends to run low). I guess she didn’t feel so hot, after all.
“Mom, I’m tired. I just need to sleep.” After I lingered for a few more minutes, she reached out for a hug and said goodnight. That was my cue to leave.
As I closed her door and put away the thermometer, I marveled at how fast the dark cloud of COVID fear gathered over me, and my heart ached for parents and loved ones whose worst fears came true over this past year. We are beating the virus, but the fear finds a way to sneak back in when I tend to forget about it. I guess it serves as a sobering reminder to remain vigilant through the end of this.
My Corner of the Village 