At that word, my heart groans. Images of a very sleepy me the next day flash across my mind. It used to be long long ago, when the word fever would kick start an imaginary engine in me:
Check the fridge for Paracetemol and Neurofen
Get ready the basin of cool water with small towel
Standby the thermometer
Set the alarm clock
Make the bed to get it as comfy as possible for poor little sick angel
Try to make an appointment to see the PD that’s open, or get one first thing the next day
Now, at the word ‘Fever’, we go, “HUH? AGAIN?” “Tell me, who was sick in school?” “You didn’t drink enough water?”
utter. frustration. which kid sabo? which forest in burning in Indonesia? urgh!!
Then comes Dr. Mummy with a modified sure-work, proven medicine:
Take a cold shower. Just stand there under the running water.
Drink and drink and drink and drink. The more you drink the better
No more TV. Go sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep
And stop whining! Finish the medicine NOW!
You can see, the fuse has gone really short. Does that mean we love them any lesser? Or we stopped caring or worrying about the fever getting too high and burning their brain?
All mummies out there would know that’s a NO of course. We just really hate worrying, really really don’t like it when a child is sick, really really really want the child to get better. After a while, if there’s still no improvement, I do go back to all the steps listed in the beginning. By then, I’ll feel really bad, but really very tired, and possibly down with a cold myself.
But it’ll be worth it. The moment we see that thermometer with anything under 37.5 (ya, I set the bar a little lower!) I’ll rejoice!!
So who has the fever tonight?
Me. I’m not taking any cold shower, any medicine, any drink. The TV’s on, and I just whined a whole lot. I know I’ll get better. I’m Dr. Mummy, remember?
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