I am doing my best to learn how to be a calm and stable, all knowing force when it comes to illness in my house but I confess that my nerves and confidence become a little racked when things don’t clear quickly. I have a hard time just sitting and waiting.
Camden started acting a bit whiny late morning on Saturday. She came with me on our drive to pick up raw milk from a farm not too far from our town. She mostly slept for the hour long drive there and back which was nice. We got home and she acted pretty normal while we unpacked all the milk. About an hour later, after we’d eaten lunch, she fell asleep on me in the office while I checked my email. I thought that was a little weird since she’d all ready napped in the car and she’d given up naps about 3-4 months ago. When she woke up from her nap she was a little beast. She was crying inconsolably and was pretty combative. We had dinner plans at a friends so I was worried she would not be awake enough to go. When I finally got her to calm down and was holding her I noticed she was really warm. I thought it might have been from all the crying but I decided to take her temperature anyway and it was 102.4. Drats. Dinner plans cancelled.
For the rest of the evening she was my velcro child. Every time I had to pee, she cried (and I’m pregnant, so that is often). Every time I filled my water glass, she cried. Every time I moved in a way that didn’t please her physical senses, she cried. And then she puked. I reassured myself this would be over in 24-48 hours.
Wrong. We are entering Day #4 of whiny, velcro-attached and sickly child. I feel blessed that we’ve been able to keep her hydrated with water and apple juice but up until today she had absolutely no interest in eating. Just fluids, which we’ve been pushing.
Her temperature fluctuates from 101-103 during the day and 102-104 at night. Neither of us have slept well. It is hard sleeping next to a portable heater. We’ve been watching late night movies to assist in sanity; Pride & Prejudice (twice) and A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Entertaining enough for me, boring enough that my sick princess will fall asleep (all though she’s been requesting to watch Pride & Prejudice again).
Today she woke up and I was hopeful. The first thing she asked for was to eat and she wanted a flour tortilla, which I obliged her to. She took 3 bites and told me she didn’t like it. It was worth a try. I took her temperature and it was only 100.5. I really thought we had it made. Until about 10am when it was back to 102. Later we tried a banana. Bad idea. She walks to me with half a piece of banana in her hand and a very familiar look on her face. I grab the puke bowl just in time. We did make some additional food progress later that night and she ate 2 small yogurts and I’ve managed to sneak some probiotics into her apple juice.
As each ticking hour passes so does my mommy poker face. The dread of worry starts to sink in and I forbid myself from googling what kind of complications could lurk behind a fever that lasts more than 4 days in a 3 year old. I try to pretend I am like my friend Lisa who could probably cure the diseases of the world with garlic and cold socks (ok, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration). But at least I’ve learned to forgo using tylenol and ibuprofen for fevers.
And then, as I’m typing this little blog entry I hear something that has become very familiar over the last few days. “Waaaaaaaahhhhhh.” I rush into the master bedroom. Camden is crying. “What’s the matter?” She is holding her throat. “It hurrrrttttsssss”. I calm myself and collect my thoughts. What would super Lisa do? Oh yes, she would make some honey tea. So I warm up a mug of water (I nuked it – EGAD, don’t kill me Lisa!) and dissolved two spoon fulls of raw honey in the radiated water. By the time I get back to the bedroom Camden is all ready asleep. I coax her awake and get her to drink half of the mug of honey tea, which she likes but is too tired to drink all of.
I lay her back down and am called into the room half a dozen more times for re-arranged pillows, a request to go to Shelby’s house, a request for cartoons and a gripe about how both of her arms don’t fit into one of her pajama sleeves. I try to be calm and patient. I try to tell myself I should lay in that bed with her but heaven help me, four days lying in bed when you are not sick yourself quickly loses its novelty.
Needless to say, my mommy nerves are a little rattled. My confidence has waned and her new development of a sore throat on top of the fever, vomiting and diarrhea has left me needing reassurance. Off to the doctor we go tomorrow…