Andy slept very late today. Like until 9am.
But I wasn't exactly complaining about that! (see my "burned out" post from yesterday)
When he woke up I walked in his room. He normally pops up and gets excited. Instead he was just lying there looking at me.
When I picked him up he just put his head on my shoulder and let me carry him. Last time he did that was our last time in the hospital when his counts were around 1.
Andy may have caught a little bug that's slowing him down a bit.
The problem is the feelings it conjures up. Deep, dark feelings that I haven't felt in a while. Andy sick. Not a good thing.
Immediately my stomach felt like it was being wrenched and twisted. The IBS meds helped a bit with this.
It's weird. When my kids get sick I pretty much take the, "You're okay, drink fluids and get over it" approach. Not insensitive but not over-comforting either. It's different with Andy though.
I guess I'll run this incident past the counselor I've been working with. (with whom I've been working, sorry Greg)
Classic PTSD I guess.