Medicine Man

One area of our family life that falls into Chad's domain is medications.

If you ask me what our children are allergic to, what they're currently taking, how much they're currently taking, anything to do with medications, I look at Chad and say, "Ummm..."  And just like that, Chad rattles off all the pertinent details complete with metric dosages.  Metric! 

I'm not quite certain how this came about.  It could have been in those hazy first few weeks after Joseph was born when Chad was in charge of all medications and schedules.  It could have been that fun St. Patrick's Day weekend in 2003 when I had all four wisdom teeth removed and my lovely fiance made sure I took my even lovelier Vicadin.  But at some point, Chad became the Medicine Man.

Last night, I had a cough.  I've had a bit of a cough for a couple of days, but keep forgetting to take anything for it. It normally only bothers me when I'm in bed, too lazy to get up.  I try to ignore it.

But last night, it was pretty bad.  I couldn't ignore it and I couldn't sleep.  Chad got up, went to the bathroom and came out with a little cup of syrupy liquid.

"Here.  Take this."

"I can't.  I'm nursing."

"You can take this.  It's Robitussin.  I looked it up and it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."  I drink it down.

"Did you finish it all?"

"Yes, Dad."  He sighed and looked in the cup to double check that I'd taken all my medicine.  I started giggling.

"Go to sleep."

"Okay, Pops."  Shaking his head he went to rinse out the cup, his mission accomplished.