Andy thought of taking her temperature before I did.
103.9
Aha. Why don't I ever think of that first?
We Tylenol'ed her right away and felt confident she would be feeling better in 20 minutes.
I took myself straight to Giant for chicken soup ingredients, frosting for a doll party Abby insisted on having, and TP. Three hours later (Someone got carried away reading labels.), I came back home to find Abby's fever was worse, not better.
Andy was buzzing back and forth talking about emergency rooms and cold baths. Poor man. He lives with so much stress on his shoulders all the time and this surprise fever was not on his syllabus. His motherboard short-circuited so I put grocery bags in his hand to calm him down. Food and organizing the pantry is his happy place.
Even with Tylenol, Abby's fever sky rocketed above 104. Thankfully, a kind nurse on the phone squeezed us in as the last appointment for the day.
Abby's doctor couldn't have been better. She took one look at Abby glossy eyes and flaming throat and called it. "Strep." She was so sure in fact, that she wrote out a prescription for amoxi before we went to the lab downstairs.
Minutes after Abby and the tech tussled, the strep test came back positive. Thank goodness, an actual diagnosis; something we can work with. Not a mysterious ailment bringing with it a fever connected to nothing. I will take strep any day of any week.
But poor kid, she really did have a rough day yesterday between body aches, chills, and generally feeling like hell. I knew she was hurting when she shunned a Strawberry Shortcake marathon for her own bed and closed shades.
Grayson watched TV most of the day because Andy was stuck outlining historical wars in the study and I couldn't spin the nurse plate and the 5 yo boy plate just then.
By the time I was finished sponging down Abby's scalding hot body, it was near 4pm.
"Can we have a water balloon fight, Mommy?"
Seriously, kid? I'll have you know I want to curl up on that there couch you've been camped out on all day to close my eyes and dream of rocking in a hammock over fields of barley.
"A water balloon fight. Okay, yes. Go get your shoes on."
With that, I forced myself to ignore the great desire so sleep and we had ourselves a grand time.
Granted, the water hose was not the fastest method but it got the job done.
Which gave Grayson plenty of time to practice his I-Will-Crush-You-Like-A-Samurai faces
This one kind of had me nervous.
"I won't throw these at you, Mom!"
"I will LAUNCH them at you like the scary ball of boy angst that I am!!"
Ahhh, the One-legged death toss!!
He even had the dogs running.
But look who came outside with us later on for a quick visit?
She didn't last very long but it was good to see her upright again.
I guess sometimes a water balloon fight really is much better than a boring old hammock anyway.
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