Today, I have been preoccupied being Mom. CW called while I was at the store and left this plaintive, raspy cry on the machine- "WHere's my Mommmmmm?"
I called back and he sounded so sick that he scared me. I confess to all of you that I did NOT react well to having my baby ill and out of range. I called the College Coordinator and told her CW was dying. She was very sweet and called the clinic, asked them to see him immediately and drove him there herself. Meanwhile I called Dan to ask him to have a jet standing by. Sometimes a vivid imagination is a terrible curse.
(Penni is met at the airport by the police, who are somber, wearing black armbands, but will say nothing, and transported to the ICU Unit at a local hospital where CW is being kept in isolation. He is in a deep coma they believe is caused by a strange mutant bacteria thriving in the salsa he ate last night after leaving it out for 8 days on his desk) She dons the sterile garb and mask they hand her and is led through an airlock to her son's bedside.
By now of course I have worked myself into a lather. (Rinse, repeat)
Meanwhile our precious Houston connections here, contacted by Freddy, are standing by with offers of assistance and a knowledge of doctors in the Houston area.
If anyone EVER tells me that cyber isn't real, I will stuff their monitors up their noses.
Finally I get a call from a groggy CW; he is on an IV, and they have given him some shots "that are making me really sleepy". He says they're all excited, that he's the best thing they've had come in today. They poohpooh my salsa theory, and opt for a virus.
He is actually wheelchaired back to the dorm and is now presumably asleep for the next 16 hours.
I am drinking wine.
I cancelled the jet, but my bag is still packed.
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