As bedtimes go, ours is filled with two stories each night~ one "I have to read this for school" book and another "I choose to read this for fun". (My little readers hardly suspect they are learning from both books...moms are so sneaky.)
Tonight Ty and I read about Spider-Man and the evil Mysterio. Mysterio will stop at nothing to trick and hide the truth from Spider-Man who always seems to thwart the wrong-doer's elaborate plots just in time to save Aunt May from certain doom. In tonight's saga, Spider-Man figured out he was fighting all of his most fearsome foes in a computer-generated parallel universe. Once he figured out it wasn't real, he smashed out of the lifelike set created by Mysterio to trap the superhero, grabbed Aunt May and headed home.
Surely this must be what's happening in our own life. As Mr. McKay and I made the familiar journey to his pediatrician's office for his synagis (RSV) shot and the eagerly awaited results of last week's tests, we were rewarded for our patience and perseverance with only more mystery.
"All the tests came back negative," his doc tells me. "And his surgical team highly doubts any surgical connection to his symptoms."
"So what does that mean?" I ask.
"It means it wasn't C-diff, it wasn't rotavirus, and we'll probably never know exactly what was making McKay sick, but it seems the meds have improved things, so I'm not too worried about it," he answers.
"Oh," I cleverly respond. "Yes. I guess as long as he's good now..."
So tonight, after reading about our favorite web slinger and Mysterio, I think that instead of obediently packing up my poor, pricked little babe and heading for the car; I should have been checking for the trap door to reveal the evil mastermind behind all the drama and knock his lights out.
Seriously, could I make this stuff up? Just as we're getting our feet under us; just as I contemplate doing things like maybe making an appearance at work; just as we think about making vacation plans for the summer; we are stopped by some mysterious illness that robs us of sleep and confidence only to find out that it eludes detection. Will it return? Will our fear of it and its evil band of potential foes continue to rule our lives? Truth be told: For the short term, yes. Our fears will cast the deciding vote on most decisions for the coming months (at least through round three of surgery). For the long term, never. Fear is the opposite of faith. And if there is one thing Miracle McKay is good at teaching us again and again it's to enjoy the present and be not afraid.
So tomorrow night, a story will be a story. No thoughts of exacting revenge and refusing to believe that the cause of so many significant events in our life will and must remain a mystery. I will enjoy having my freshly scrubbed five year old cuddled securely under my wing, take in a deep breath of his still damp hair, and enjoy the next installment of Spidey. And know that, together, despite the odds, all will turn out well if we continue to cheer for the good guys.