Burning up.
April 10, 2006Last night we were packing and I realized my eyeballs were hot. “My eyeballs are hot,” I told my husband, because I like to update him periodically on how I’m doing.
“Huh,” he said. Or “Hrm.”
I continued to pack, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was thinking about my eyes. Also my body, which had begun to ache. “I’m all achy,” I said, to no one. Scott had left the room. He was on the phone with his parents.
I got out the thermometer and stuck it in my ear. It’s one of those. You jab it in there for two milliseconds and somehow it knows your internal body temperature. It’s magic. Actually it’s not because it’s usually wrong, but it’s wrong in that it’s lower than other thermometers, so I get to add “OR MORE” to the end of the number. I use capital letters because I like a little drama.
My temperature read 99.5. “OR MORE,” I reminded myself. I held the thermometer up to Scott, who was talking to his dad about cars, or home insurance, or high-efficiency boilers. Those are the three topics they discuss instead of their feelings. Men!
After he got off the phone he felt my forehead. “You don’t feel hot,” he said.
“But I am,” I said. Who is he going to believe, his overheated palm or Science? “Don’t forget about the hot eyeballs,” I said.
“Poor sweetie,” he said. I didn't think his heart was in it. I sat on the couch while he packed, and I shivered.
Eventually I realized I was clearly too sick to pack one more box, and I went to bed. “If I don’t wake up in the morning,” I told my husband, “You have to marry again. Henry needs a mother.” Scott whimpered. “I’m sorry, I think I’m delirious,” I told him, and I shuffled to bed.
My mother-in-law watches her beloved grandchild (Henry) on Mondays, so as I was drifting off to sleep I thought, okay, if I’m sick tomorrow, it’s not so bad. I can lie in bed all day and sweat out the toxins or whatever you do with one of these fevers (I don’t get a lot of fevers, you see, so this is sort of novel for me) and then by Tuesday I’ll be okay. I had better be okay. I can’t be sick for more than one day, I told myself. Did you hear me, body?
I woke up this morning and I felt fine. Until I stood up. I took my temperature. 100.2.
I was beginning to lose patience with this sickness. First of all, this wasn’t high enough for me to feel justified in lying in bed all day. (Even if my actual temperature could be MORE. I mean, how much more? I could only imagine.) Secondly, I had no other symptoms. Who gets a dinky little temperature and nothing else? Children, that’s who. Babies. I have a baby sickness.
My mother-in-law arrived, and I tried to get some sympathy out of her. She gave me a little, until she put her hand on my forehead. Her hand was shockingly hot. I think she had stuck it in the toaster, just to prove some crazy point. “You feel cool,” she told me. “Well, you feel hot,” I said, “so there.”
Maybe I’m fine, I thought, and all I need is a little fresh air. I put on some mascara. My mother-in-law looked at me and said, “Well, you look sick.” I put on my sunglasses, and headed out the door.
There’s nothing like a beautiful springtime day to really bring into relief one’s own acute misery. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and everyone else trotting around on the sidewalk looked vigorous and brimming with good health. I, on the other hand, looked like someone had just killed my dog. And no one had! My dog was home, busily shedding his winter coat all over every square inch of my apartment. I kept walking and walking. I was going to stop somewhere for tea or to look at books or whatever it is I normally enjoy doing, but I realized that if I stopped, I would not be able to make it back home. Finally I turned around and headed back. Heading back meant going uphill. I was miserable. My legs were shaking. Walking was a terrible idea. My fever was undoubtedly out of control. My brain was being roasted.
Then I got home and took my temperature. 99.2. I got into bed, but I didn't feel good about it. Stupid baby sickness.
Reader Comments (71)
Administer Ibuprofen.
You just hold the button and swipe it across the forehead. I just bought one and I can't stop taking temperatures. haha. It's pretty accurate.
Poor thing....I know how it is to be the mommy and get sick. No one cares. Yours is not as bad as theirs....etc....I am with wordnerd, you better take good care b/c you will have to deal with hubby when he gets it.I miss my friend Amy who used to make me toast and tea and lie down whenever I was sick. She was MUCH better than my mom, who used to just go to work.
Hope you feel better soon!
My solution: the armpit thermometer. Or rather, the all purpose armpit/mouth/rectal thermometer. (Just don't go sticking it into all of those places in one go. Or at least change the probe covers for goodness sake.) It's no fun for 21 month olds because they have to sit there for ONE WHOLE MINUTE while the thermometer reads the temp, but if you're feeling crappy anyway, why not take a load off. The best thing is you get to add a whole degree to the results if you do it via armpit! It's officially sanctioned by doctors everywhere!
Feel better.
Here's a trick from my great-grandmother that has worked for me when I had a fever & wanted to feel better: take ALL the covers in the house & put them on your bed; then drink a shot of scotch (or some other alcohol--the last time I did this I could only find cognac, but it worked) and get in bed under all those covers. Pretty soon you'll start sweating, which can break the fever, which makes you feel better. Plus, if you've got someone to watch the boy, why not have a drink and a little lie-down? haha!
Good luck! Hope you feel better soon!
I'm sick too, only I know why I am. I'm on Spring Break in Boston and I'm from the south. Yeah. Cold weather plus me do not make a very good mix.
Hope we BOTH feel better (along with whomever is sick!)!
ugh. so sorry, what a horrible time of year to get sick.
well that's stupid. it's never a good time to get sick.
anyway.
Here's my mocktor (mock + doctor= mocktor) advice: you should check your pulse in addition to your temperature. I have a (un)naturally low body temp, but got to stay in the hospital a few days extra both times I was admitted because my pulse was "too low." I'm not exactly sure how low "too low" is, but the pestilence symptoms you describe sound like they might indicate such a thing (to me, someone who is not a doctor but loves to play one on WebMd).