Many a days I curse the fact that Chris is a doctor. Doctors work on Christmas. Doctors are tired all the time. Doctors don't have time to do anything but treat sick people, so repair projects and yard work remains largely undone.
But, then there are the days where I'm extremely thankful we have a doctor sitting right across from us at the dinner table. Daddy doctors make house calls without checking for insurance! Today was one of those days I was grateful for Chris.
Connor told us this morning he was too sick for school. With no other visible symptom, we suspected it was a ploy. We dismissed his words, and shooed him off to the bus stop anyway.
As the afternoon progressed, Connor's health diminished. He was warm, and exhausted with a cough. On the spot, Chris checked him out. He ruled out the major stuff, and declared it a virus.
Chris performed Connor's med check during dinner as the other boys looked on. Caleb, not one to let an opportunity like this pass him by, started saying, "Hey Connor, are you going to eat your breadstick?"
"Connor, I'll take your breadstick for you."
"Connor, you're too sick for that breadstick, right?"
Caleb, oblivious to his ailing brother, devoured piece by piece of his dinner while Connor looked on from the couch.
Chris monitored his ailing son for the remainder of the evening. He wasn't alarmed (typical Chris), but vigilant and compassionate. I got a glimpse of how he treats his patients at work, and I imagine they walk away from the ER comforted and rejuvenated by his efforts.
Thanks Chris for being their doctor, but most importantly their dad.