At dinner tonight, Nick dropped his napkin on the floor and almost broke into tears. Then a few minutes later, he put his head on the table. I pride myself on being able to spot a sick child from .8 miles away (all the better to avoid getting puked on.) But having spent the day with Nick, it was the last thing I suspected.

Mike was the first to ask if he had a fever. I got the thermometer and sure enough, 101.4 temp. Then we saw he had the chills and was starting to tremble. We gave him a dose of Tylenol.

Mike took him up for a warm bath to get the chills away.

Getting rid of the chills = good. Putting feverish child in warm bath = fever goes up, fast. In the first few minutes after the tub, his temp was 101.4.

Just a few minutes later he was at 104.5 in one ear and 103.9 in the other. One of those numbers is a lot more comfortable for me than the other. Knowing the bath had a lot to do with that, I tried not to freak.

Since I had spent the day with Nick, I thought I would take my own temp just for kicks. It was 96.5. Therein causing me to think the thermometer was broken.

So I started the hunt for the other five thermometers that live in various parts of the house. The first two I found were the glass and digital butt thermometers from when the children were babies. I didn’t think that was a viable option, so I kept searching.

Next I found my basal thermometer from past fertility research. In a pinch I thought it might work, though they are not really supposed to be used as a fever thermometer.

I couldn’t get him to put it under his tongue.

I left to search for the others and Mike set to work on getting a read off that one.

The next time I reappeared, Mike said the basal thermometer (OK, he didn’t say “basal thermometer,” he said “this one”) read 102.1.

The ear one again read 103.4 and 103.2.

Just to make things interesting, it should be noted that a little over a year ago, Nick had two viruses fairly close to each other that included repeated 104.5 fevers that would go down to 102.4 with Tylenol and Motrin.

I tried my ear again it said “too low,” as in it couldn’t even read me. And this was with me running up and down the stairs looking in different closets for thermometers.

I scrounged up another digital one which after a few tries, found didn’t work at all.

By now, an hour later, we decided to stagger in the Motrin (a tad early but in an attempt to knock it down so he could go to sleep.) About 45 minutes later, he was back to normal. Cool, sleeping rather uneasily, but sleeping.

And I was laying next to him with major, major chills. Whole-body-shaking chills.

The beauty of having sympathetic symptoms to my children, is I never know if I actually am coming down with whatever they have, or if I’m just going into shock. I finally fell asleep, waking about an hour later feeling warm, wondering if I was warm from fever or if I had just warmed up my freaked out body.

I’m pretty sure it was the later, which makes me more than a little weird. (It should be noted, I have a puke bucket on standby in his room, and any threat or possible threat of puke is known to put me over the edge.)

But if you don’t hear from me tomorrow, you’ll know why.


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