Sunday, 29 January 2012



Picking up Roman from his gran's last night it became clear he might be sick by feeling his hot little head and face. There was also a tell tale snail trail of bogies streaming freely from his nose, but I'll spare you the details on how many times I had to wipe that away.

Because he seemed okay - maybe a little more tired than usual, but nothing to write home about - I sent him and B off out to church. Unfortunately I haven't yet worked up the strength to make it through church just yet; I'll get there, it's just going to require my patience (something I've learned to have a lot of over these past few years.)

So, he seemed pretty unaffected this morning, but like I said a little more tired. He nearly fell asleep, tucked up under my arm which is out of character but not an indicator of an underlying problem with his health.

I suppose I'll know better next time because when he got home from church he had a very pale face with puffy, washed out eyes. We took his temperature and at 38.9C, it was high. Certainly not high enough to merit a visit to A&E but high enough that I wanted to strip him down, cool him off with a wash cloth and give him Calpol. 

He wanted to go to bed and when we got him several hours later he was soaked in sweat. I tried to not become panicky, with my main thoughts trying to be about him, but the last time he was sick like this we had to rush off to hospital, he got better and I got very, very sick - so sick that I was instructed to admit myself to hospital - I don't want to go through taking him to hospital, being so ill I slept through days and nights and being told if I don't go to hospital that I am going to be suffocated by my swollen glands and die from dehydration because I can't stop being sick.

I hate hospitals. I don't mind being there for other people, but I am fearful for myself - hence why I didn't admit myself the last time and another few times I've been told too. I'll avoid them at all costs. So when Roman gets sick I try to focus on the fact he's getting better and panic a little when he gets worse. 

Luckily, he just wanted to sit around watching TV - very out of character behaviour, this little boy only has a few favourite TV shows but even then won't sit still to watch them. He won't watch films for too long, either and would rather be playing or running around so if he suddenly becomes quiet, floppy and wants to watch TV I know he's sick.

Happily he got better as the evening wore on - not 100%, but better. I'm so happy that his immune system can fight this, I'm even more grateful that we have medicine we can give him and I'm even more grateful that he's up to date with his immunisations - I'd be a bag of worries otherwise.