Sick Day

The fever came out of nowhere. We moved through our day easily, without a hint of the frenzied disobedience that typically foreshadows an illness. And then, without warning, her temperature spiked, and she started shivering under the down duvet. 

She went to sleep, and then woke a few hours later vomiting. And then a night of fitful sleep, restlessly babbling, waking and sleeping again.

Her eyes have been closed most of the day. She says her hands are too tired to watch the iPad. She swears she’s not sick, because sick people go to the doctor. She’s just tired. 

In the few moment’s that she’s been lucid enough, she’s demanded that I not leave her side. So, I’ve been here, sitting in her bed, the whole day long. She wakes for a few moments, and I encourage her to take some water. I promise her that yes, when you wake up you can have breakfast. And a glass of milk. 

It is at times like this that I am most grateful for our wonderful helper. Hugo is spending the day with his Ibu, having his every need attended to, playing peek-a-boo and going for walks and singing songs. I’m able to sit next to my girl with my hand on her forehead. I’m here with her, in her sick bed, not leaving her alone, not even for a second. 

(As a poorly written aside, I’ve been quietly unworried about her all day, thinking she just needs to sleep off this bug, but you know, Jakarta and tropical illness various and sundry. My Jakarta blog friend recently had typhoid, and I’ve had amoebic dysentery and anyway, it’s four pm and this kid is stiiiillll sleeping, so good wishes and feel better vibes accepted here.)