Little Fish decided to come down with the 'flu in style. Hysterical shrieks at intervals overnight; her bedhead apparently covered in moving circles, her Nippy mask coming to get her, her walls wobbling and more. I've not had a child with enough language to express delirium before; part of my mind stepping back, fascinated, whilst the rest of me tried to wake her up enough to calm her down and comfort her, all the time trying to set myself somewhere on her bed so the room wasn't spinning for me. Good times...
Mog seems a little better today. Looking back, I think she probably started this on Wednesday, which means it's given her five days of switching off, and now left her with just the cough and her usual post-infection "I will obstruct and obstruct and there's nothing you can do about it" nights.
I am feeling fairly hideous from the neck up, absolutely wiped and really wanting to sleep at regular intervals throughout the day. But thankfully the all over achey achey death would be a relief bit seems to be, if not totally better, at least better when the painkillers are at max efficiency. I'll take that as an improvement.
We sent a friend for Little Fish's Tamiflu and seem to have managed to meet one of the world's most abrupt pharmacists. Senior consultant in training I think. He wanted to speak to me before releasing the drug. I don't remember the whole conversation but "significant risk of death" will stick in my mind - I'm not convinced he actually needed to tell me that. Oh, and before we all start planning what to wear to the funeral, the GP wasn't convinced either.
She didn't seem so bad this morning; a little hot, a little pale, wanting to play with the playdough but happy to potter and not be too actively busy. A horrid cough, a stuffed nose, and complaints of aches but nothing to floor her. And then this afternoon she decided to start vomiting too, making me very pleased we hadn't sent her to school but also somewhat distressed at the clearup.
And it's been one of those days when the phone just keeps on ringing. Problems with the cleaner. The care agency, to say they'll send carers back in again just as soon as we're all feeling better. Which is great, but how about sending someone in now, when we're feeling significantly un-better? The cleaning agency again worried about the stability of someone who holds one of my doorkeys - marvellous. The GP, to reassure us the pharmcist had a poor choice of words. My mother, wanting a shopping list, which she has now delivered together with flowers and stopped long enough to give Mog a shower before running late to Guides. And Friend, offering to come this weekend and take over so I can rest.
Roll on Friday.