Dr. Dole (pronounced Doh-lay) gave Ashton a hall pass yesterday. As he looks and feels remarkably well, my mom took him outside, which is actually better than inside ANYWHERE in a hospital, if you ask me. She call and asked me to look out the window and wave. There was Ashton running down the sidewalk with his Dayton Dragons hat on. Seriously. Running.
When they came back upstairs we played more soccer, keeping it easy so we don’t break a body part or a window. Man, that ball our friends gave us has got a lot of mileage on it.
We met some more friends yesterday. We have this wonderful vantage point from room 415. We keep our door open so we can people watch and see directly in to the playroom which is usually empty. It is a very high germ zone in there due to siblings and I just look at it and see one big, enormous infection about to happen.
Well, if Ash sees a kid about his size walk in there, he is on it. Mask on, socks on, hands washed, let’s go. I figured, what the hell, he already went running and played soccer, let’s just do it. We are becoming famous for eliciting heart attacks among the staff anyway.
We met a boy named Carson who was as salty as my boy can be after a large dose of Benadryl or any dose of steroids. Whew! This boy was just pissed. His father was pissed, too. I was momentarily jealous that Carson had a father because the mama clearly was not in charge of discipline. She was in charge of loving and nurturing. He was hooked up to a Beeper and we asked him to play Chutes and Ladders, which is a game I was sick of five years ago, but I digress.
Carson got ticked after his first Chute, so his nine year old sister stepped in and she was a delight. After a while Carson did snap out of it and play. But he never once cracked a smile.
Then Abriella came in. She’s five. She brought with her one set of parents, a three year old and an 8 month old. I looked around at the biggest human interaction I have seen in months and felt happy. And afraid. Holy Germ-fest.