Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
I needed the longer stretch of the extended two-mile ramble with Storm this morning after spending the bulk of yesterday going to, at and coming back from Children's Memorial Hospital.
So did the meathead.
Apparently stealing and eating an entire Tupperware container of cookies intended for the Thanksgiving feasting was too much for even his Lab stomach. Good God, the stuff streaming out of him this morning almost made me feel bad for him
I say almost because my concern was tempered by the fact I had really liked stealing a couple of the cookies at a time myself.
But I did it by ones and twos. He wiped out a couple dozen in a matter of seconds.
Long day at Children's yesterday just wiped me out emotionally. The gray fog, mist or whatever it was this morning matched my emotional state after yesterday.
By itself, it wasn't that big of a deal, just our second boy getting his ear repatched. But coming into the recovery room and seeing him gray, pallid as a corpse in an open coffin spooked me. I think my shocked reaction scared the nurse.
But it was the third time in a hospital in the past 15 years that I looked at him and he appeared dead. First after an early birth and a long successful stay at Rush-Presbyterian, then at St. Joseph in Joliet a couple years ago after complications from a weird pneumonia.
Either he is the luckiest sonnabitch alive or God has plans for him.
I find Children's amazing. There is so much sorrow and fear, but it is tempered by compassion and professionalism of everybody. And I mean everybody down to the guys who park the cars when the parking lot across Lincoln Avenue fills up.
Watching other parents, I saw they felt the same emotional drain, as if your life energy is being sucked out in the waiting on your child to come out of their operations.
If reminded me of interviewing Lisa Tomassetti about a decade ago for the first Liv's Hunt for a Cure, a fundraiser for research toward Cystic Fibrosis.
I happened to catch her after a long day at Children's with Liv, the daughter of Lisa and her husband Mauro, followed by the long drive back to the far northwest suburbs.
Anybody who has been involved with a kid with prolonged health issues knows just how draining that can be. It is probably the closest I have ever felt to somebody I was interviewing.
Well, the years sneak past too fast.
The 10th and last annual Liv's Hunt for a Cure is coming up Dec. 2-4 in the far northwest suburbs. Click here for details.
I am not sure I want to let it sink in that it has been 10 years already.
By the cornfield on the far edge of my extended route for the ramble, Storm strained against the leash, apparently feeling a new lease on life with the purging of his bowels.
Pulling back against him pulled me back from mulling too deeply on life and death issues, brought me back more toward one of Thanksgiving.
Back in town, a squirrel crawled up the side of the town hall like a rodent version of Spider-Man. I stopped and watched how he used his rodent paws to hook in the mortar openings between each row of bricks to scale the building.
As much as squirrels can annoy me, I found it interesting.
And I was grateful to watch something like that.
On a deeper level, I think it might be a perfect day to consider giving to Children's. Click here if the sprit of Thanksgiving fills your heart.
Maybe I should hold a fishing fundraiser on the Chicago River for Children's. But I am generally more of a loner than a planner.