Till Deaths Do Us Part

I've been bugged down by this viral fever for 4 days now. Each day successfully passed by ignoring the pain, the temperature that shot high once in a while, especially at night. My dearest husband was caught by the annoying virus first, at his office, maybe through his boss, if my recollection is correct. He tried to fight the fever too, only surrendered when I suggested him for a check up at a clinic near our house. The night trip to the clinic as I remember, wasn't that long but the clinic was fully packed, with kids and adults.

"Everyone is sick, everyday. Every single day." I told my 5B students. This is my class, I am their form teacher. I've been handling them since last year. So I know them by heart now. I know their antics, I know their parents' antics too. I know their strengths, as much as I know their weaknesses, although they wish I do not know them too much, fearing that I would use any information about them against them. I was particularly pissed off that day when two boys kept disappearing from school and used health as their excuses. Frankly, one was saying he had migraine every alternate day and the other one had problems with his toe. One particular toe. Excuses. 

"You just need to find ways to stay healthy. When you are sick, cure the sickness so that you can be well again. Or if you refuse to be cured, ignore the pain and face the world as if you are well, the healthiest person on earth. Either way, think first before you skip your school."

I think I said that to the class. My class attendance was quite ugly for February with these kids ignoring excuse letters from parents and no MC whatsoever when they were absent. I told them that with a pinch of seriousness on my face, hopefully they would get the message. I hope they did.

As I type this, I have the option to go to the clinic and ask for a medical leave. I am unwell. But, thinking of the kids at school, the long awaiting list of undone work, and of course, thinking of the people I promise of working together tomorrow, I shall set aside the pain. The pain can be ignored again at the moment.

My bluebird of happiness is sick too. She is going to skip school. The difference between this bird and those two boys is vast. First, she is 6. The boys are 17. My bird still has a long way to go. The boys are going to finish their schooling soon. And this bird does not know how to lie yet. She is ill, we went to a specialist and the specialist asked her to rest. The boys? I am yet to see their approval of absenteeism.

Please boys,

My dearest boys.

I love you like my own brothers.

I know your potential, but the potential is denied by the masters who are simply lazy.

Come to school.

Everyday.

When you are well.

Coz when I am slightly unwell, I will still come to school.

Hoping that only deaths do us part.