I Got Him Some Acetaminophen.
Dylan got sick.
At college.
He texted me. He needed a mom. He needed permission to stay home from school and rest. He needed a stupid TV (for the first time since he’s been there) to allow him time to rest. He needed to rest his brain and his body and sleep, sleep, sleep.
So we texted back and forth, him feeling awful and me reassuring him that he could miss a couple of classes.
I sent him to the health clinic on campus, thinking they could – at least – make sure he didn’t have an infection or something requiring antibiotics. He crawled out of bed and dragged himself across campus.
They tested him and said he had no flu and a fever of 99 degrees. Dylan’s pediatrician doesn’t even consider 99 a fever. In fact, his body temperature runs a little high so I’m not sure he had a fever at all.
But then, the next day, he was worse. He could barely lift his head. He texted me (i feel insanely feverish and weak and i’m shivering like crazy) and sent a link to the song “Agony,” from a musical he saw on a school field trip years ago.
Dylan was really, really sick.
I decided to take drastic action: I sent him some acetaminophen.
I found a lovely new service called “Instacart,” where you can “instantly” have your “cart” delivered from the store to your residence. (I’ve included the link so that if you want to discover it, too, you can get $10 off your order. I don’t normally do this on my blog but it’s actually that awesome.)
I sent Dylan fresh, organic strawberries – his favorite food. I sent him yogurt – easy to swallow – and chicken noodle soup in a microwavable cup. I sent him Gatorade in his favorite flavors and gummy vitamins loaded with Vitamin C and D. And, finally, I sent him the acetaminophen caplets – something I never would have given him at home unless it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
When everything arrived, his roommate kindly went down – and back up – four flights of stairs to deliver everything to Dylan’s bed. My Instacart order arrived in less than 90 minutes.
Dylan texted me: thank you for getting all this i really don’t know what to do with all of it but i’m already drinking the gatorade
and later: i just only ate an applesauce and half a yogurt
Then, finally, Dylan took an acetaminophen caplet. Since he rarely takes any kind of medication, he only took one – then he texted me again: the medicine is helping i can tell. still don’t feel good but i don’t feel like i’d rather die than be awake anymore. i’m eating some chicken noodle soup.
Dylan was feeling better.
He was no longer writhing in agony in his dorm bed. He could rest comfortably, not worry about getting to the cafeteria, have plenty to drink to keep him hydrated – and take another acetaminophen caplet if he needed one.
Instacart was a wonderful find – so wonderful, in fact, that – two days later – I ordered $117 worth of crap from Costco and had it delivered to my own house, even though I was perfectly capable of going to the store myself.
That’s when I knew I would have to use it sparingly.
The next day, I got the best text ever: thank you so much for taking care of me i know i’ve already said that but seriously you helped me so much
That’s my job, Son. (And that text is what makes my job the best one in the world.)