She lies on the couch, whimpering.
This morning she was full of energy and light. Insisting on wearing the same pants she's worn for three days in a row, because they are her current favorite and they are "not that dirty." As I dropped her off she kissed me and smiled, and then ran away, happy to go to school.
At 2pm I got the call "Madame, Juliette is crying and has a small fever. She would like to come home."
I arrive at school to find her asleep in a very uncomfortable chair near the receptionist. This is not a drill, she really doesn't feel well. I pick her up and carry her to the car. She sleeps all the way home.
At home I take her temperature: 100.9. Legitimately sick, but not worrisome. She sleeps.
By 4pm her fever is above 102.3 and she is the very definition of pitiful. Her head aches and her stomach hurts. She is not hungry and must be forced to drink water (which we do). She is afraid to throw up and clutches a bowl under her chin.
She cries.
She whines.
She doesn't move.
This is not like her and the whole family is disconcerted.
Cassandre needs comforting. Her sister is normally tough as nails and she has never seen her like this. "I'm worried." she says. Xavier who never admits that anyone is very sick, is seated at Juju's feet, consoling her. I, truth be told, am back and forth. One minute I am at her side, petting her, the next I am on the Internet, looking up the symptoms to H1N1, which I have already looked at a dozen times.
We take her temperature every hour.
The fever has dropped to 102 and seems steady. I am not giving her pain meds and you might think that is cruel. But I believe that fever has a purpose. The idea is to make the body inhospitable to viruses and I trust her body to set the level. I set my personal level at 103. If she gets there and is in pain, I will give her medication to lower the fever. Until then I will let the fever do its job.
The daughter of a long line of sailors, she has asked for an apple. She can't know this, but it is the smartest food one can ask for when one feels he/she is going to throw up - there is no acid in an apple and it is by far the easiest thing to go down and come back up again.
For now, however, the apple sits untouched. She clutches her bowl, eyes mostly closed, watching cartoons. She sleeps. She wakes. She is quiet.
I think it will be a long night.