Counting our blessings

There's nothing like an old fashioned scare to remind you to count every single blessing every single day. Everett had a little bit of a mild (the most mild ever!) cold, if you could even call it that: a very low fever and a slight runny nose, the most negligible cold he's ever had. And then after it subsided, one morning, early, he woke up... and couldn't walk. He couldn't even stand up. He said his calves hurt and he literally couldn't take a single step or even stand. Every time he tried, his legs buckled and he'd collapse onto the floor. He was otherwise in the best mood, his most smiley and charming form, but it was terribly upsetting, to say the least. We counted the minutes (hours!) until the doctor's office opened, and although after googling we eventually became fairly convinced it was not a big deal, it was still pretty frightening. It's times like this when having a pediatrician friend you can text at 6am is helpful... and reassuring. But then when Everett had to be carried through the house, out the door, into the street and even into his carseat (can't even climb into the car) – it was disorienting and frightening. We got to the doctor at 8:50am, Everett wearing his doctor jacket and carrying his stethoscope and even able to manage a stiff, Frankenstein's monster-style stagger. They tested his urine, took his blood, and gave him a good look-over, and confirmed what we had thought: rare but fleeting Acute Benign Myositis that typically strikes school-age boys after a virus and disappears without any real treatment. By late afternoon Everett was walking, jumping, running, and dancing as usual, and even made it to his sports class. We're mentally prepared and bracing for a full week of mornings where he can't walk and afternoons where it improves slowly, but we're hoping it'll all be a distant memory within a few days. And we'll be counting our blessings regularly from now on.