10. Your Funds Are Depleted

Thank you, Medical Aid, we are painfully aware that our "funds are depleted". I have to be honest, I wonder if the people who set up medical aid package options know what doctors cost, what medication costs, and how much small people cost to keep alive. Maybe you're one of those super blessed people whose kids have never done anything but a polite little sneeze once in their lifetime. Or maybe, like me, you have a child that's been rushed to hospital on more occasions than you'd like to admit, has to be on reflux medication daily, and has an intense disdain for "fruit flavored medicinal syrups" which results in explosive projectile vomiting that would give North Korea a run for its money. I suspect that whoever the taster guy is for pharmaceutical companies has no functional taste buds, because I have tasted all of the syrups my offspring has, and I can assure you that Buscopan does not taste like banana. Not at all. Not even vaguely reminiscent of any form of fruit. Maybe on a planet far, far away, there is a highly toxic fruit plantation and that's what the taster guy - let's call him Felipe for today's blog - is comparing it to. Perhaps Felipe has a cousin who tastes Nurofen and Calpol, and this cousin definitely does a better job than the tastebudless Felipe does. Nurofen and Calpol do actually taste vaguely like Strawberry. Let me stop there and not exhaust you with my feelings on Allergex, Stopayne, Aspelone, Panado and all the antibiotics my offspring has been subjected to. (For anyone who has dealt with respiratory issues, Augmentin is way less offensive than Orelox in taste and texture. Both are quite awful, but I suspect they got Felipe in for Orelox and his cousin in for Augmentin.) For all the organic moms who give their child kale, garlic, honey and lavender tea for any light sniffle, I truly am sorry for offending you with my unfortunately vast knowledge of pediatric medications. Then again, I doubt any of those supermoms would ever read a primal blog like this one. What a relief for the rest of us! 

Back to the depletion of funds. Children cost a lot of money to raise. It can be terrifying. Important decisions have to be made regarding schooling, nutrition, stimulation, extra curricular events and general life. Do you buy a house or pay for school? Do you feed them organic food or pay off a car? Decisions, decisions. On a more serious note, I have been thinking a lot about my frustration regarding medical aid. And it struck me that the fact that I have a medical aid means I am a really blessed person. The fact that I have schooling options means that I am living above the bread line, which most of my countrymen aren't. The fact that I can drive and have a car means that I don't have to queue for hours in taxi lines to get to a job that doesn't pay nearly enough to support my family. Yes, my funds are depleted but that means I had funds to start with. All too often I get lost in my own bubble and I forget how many true superheroes there are out there. Single mothers having to support multiple children with a pathetic excuse for a salary. Grandmothers who walk, often with severe pain in their legs, to work as maids and then have to make perfect sandwiches for someone else's children while their own grandchildren are alone at home without supervision or protection. Fathers who do backbreaking work to bring in a meager amount of money for their families who live far away. Sometimes I am a selfish git. I complain so quickly, but reality is that my "burden" would be someone else's joy. When I sit back and take proper stock of life, I see clearly how much I have to be grateful for. 

I encourage you to look at your small people this week and focus on what you love about them. Even when it's really difficult and they're projectile vomiting all of their very expensive medication back at you. Even when they're refusing to cooperate with your keeping them alive by giving them nutrients known as "food". Even when they do a giant pee on the floor as you take their nappy off, and then splash in it merrily as if it were blessed rain from the heavens. Even when they decide that they're going to give up daytime napping and get you to read the same book for the 76th time in a row. All of these instances (which genuinely happen in our household) mean that we are alive. And being alive is a gift. I hope you get a moment to breathe and smile this week, even in the midst of the manicness. Apparently it will all be worth it!