We have been battling Ford’s immune response since late Saturday night, alternating doses of ibuprofin and acetominophin, but his fever is stubborn. I’m watching him toss, waiting for a drop in temperature (without relief, it has climbed as high as 106 F). He is frail and hot. As if laboring in his sleep; his breath has a heavy effort, and occasionally he will mutter dreamspeak: stifled pleas dampened by the weight of sleep. All I can do is lay beside him, sleeplessly rubbing the deep furrow in my brow. These are long nights, half slept with the lights left on. All countertops are cluttered with discarded plastic safety wrap, barely-sipped glasses of water, sticky syrup syringes, half-empty analgesic bottles. In limbo, I’ll eventually round up and declutter, after I spend ten minutes trying to focus my thougths, after I’m convinced the fever is low enough to condone sleep.
Plein air paintings, studio art and lessons
Oooh, sorry to hear he’s feeling so poorly. Sending good thoughts he’ll feel better soon.
Oh how scary. That’s a high fever. Man–I wish there was something I could do and send via the internet your way–other than many virtual hugs. He will get better. But limbo sucks. Take care of yourself. That’s always the hardest thing for me to remember to actually DO.
I bet watching your child fight off a fever is worse than being sick yourself. Hope he’s on the mend soon — and you both get good nights sleep.
{hugs} to both of you~~
Honestly, I am going to have to stop reading your blog if you don’t quit writing so vividly about your kids being sick. It is stressing me out. I’m delicate on this issue. But I truly, truly feel for you and am expecting a surly Ford post any day now. TAKE CARE!