Adventures at Rasa Ranch #149

[Guest guest]

12/15/03

 

The last couple of days are a big blur. With both children burning up

with fever, I don't think I stepped outside once and the nights were

long. Jim was on duty battling hallucinatory dinosaurs with Ananda

while I was up every hour or so walking with the baby. Yesterday,

Ananda was lying on the couch groaning with a headache. Since we

were both having a lucid moment, we took full advantage of it. I

went over and sat down beside her.

 

"Look at me in the eyes," I said. She raised them to me, bloodshot

and glassy, lids half-closed. "What happens when you put your

attention on the headache?"

 

"It huwts!" she cried.

 

"Now." I paused. "Take, your attention...*away* from the headache."

There was silence. "What now?" I asked.

 

"It's betto!"

 

"Yes, sweetie." We stayed together quietly for a long while, when she

moaned, "Oww." She looked at me briefly, looking at her, and then her

sleepy eyes went to the ceiling again. "It's okay now," she said,

closing them. "That's my girl," I told her, stroking her hot face.

 

We did this many times during the day and night, not only with the

headaches, but with the tummy aches and the weird spinning sensations

that came with the fever as well. It kept us connected to each other

and also connected to ourselves. It was like we were in meditation

the whole time.

 

In the middle of last night, I looked about me as we fast-forwarded a

commercial of our taped version of the season finale of Survivor.

Jim and I were lying there on the living room floor, stiff necks held

up with tired hands, heaped, entwined and interlocked in a nest of two

flushed and sweaty children, pillows and blankets. As I took a bite

of a half-eaten and forgotten piece of toast, and Jim, a sip of

leftover soup, I said, "Look at us, honey." We smiled at one

another. It was a moment to remember.

 

This morning the baby and I woke up to Ananda's singing out in the

other room: "It ain't gonna wain no mo' no mo', it ain't gonna wain

no mo'..." Normally, that can irritate me, but surely not today!

Zachary pointed to the door with an "Ah?" and as I slowly raised my

head I asked, "Is that your sister?" He opened his mouth wide with a

smile and proceeded to crawl off our lowered mattress toward the sound

of her voice. Lying my head back down and closing my eyes, through my

nose I took a deep breath. I was feeling grateful that the worst of

this one must definitely be behind us. However, no sooner did I have

that thought that my lids shot right open again upon hearing a new

cough that did not belong to either of the kids. An "oh no" ran

through my mind. "Jim!"