Age: 11 1/2 months
I like: My bike, boobs, big sloppy kisses, waving – when I feel like it, dogs, my paddling pool
After the terrible cold of the fortnight or so ago, we really thought Little O was on the mend. He was coughing occasionally but had perked up loads and was really enjoying the warmer weather. I bought him a cheap paddling pool, which Mr O filled with water and some plastic balls and it became his new favourite thing almost immediately. We even got to the point where he started to get excited as soon as we opened the back door.
In the middle of the week though he suddenly took a turn for the worse. While I was at work Mr O messaged me to say he seemed a bit warm and was refusing to be put down. When It got home we measured his temperature at 38 C, he refused his dinner and was miserable and lethargic. Usually he’ll let me put him down in his cot for at least the start of the night but he was having none of it.
By the weekend the temperature was gone but Little O was sleeping for big chunks of the day and not wanting to play or laugh but just rather lay in either Mr O or my arms. He couldn’t even muster enthusiasm for going out, which is usually the highlight of his day, no matter where we go.
And then on Saturday he came out in a rash that just got worse as the day went on. By bedtime it was bright red and all over his body so we decided it was time to call in the bug guns and take him to A&E (AKA the Emergency Room for non-Brits). We went through triage where he was declared not immediately in danger but in need of a check by a doctor. This took another two hours, which is nothing really considering how much pressure the NHS is under.
We ended up in a sort of weird limbo where Little O was both exhausted and over-stimulated, which left Mr O and I taking turns to walk him up and down the corridor between the waiting room and reception, while he flirted with anyone he could make eye contact with (traitorous when you’re supposed to be showing everyone that you’re deathly ill and your parents are not total alarmists). It was a slightly concerning look at what taking him on a twelve hour flight for my brother’s wedding in August will be like… but I digress.
After giving him a thorough inspection, the A&E doctor found the source of all the problems – tonsillitis. The rash and fever were caused by his little body fighting the infection and the misery by the fact that his throat is “full of thorns” as the doctor described it. We were sent home and told to administer regular painkillers and take him to our GP if he is not better in a week.
It has been over these past few days that I have developed an ever deeper respect for parents of children that are seriously unwell or unwell for long periods of time. Seeing my usually cheerful, cheeky little human, lethargic, miserable and simply not interested in any of his favourite things has been heart-breaking. My only comfort has been that being close to me seems to make him feel better. We have cuddled more in the past few days than we have since he was a tiny baby and him consciously choosing me as his safe place has made me feel more loved than I can possibly describe.
In other news we also found out this week that we’re going to have to move in August. Our landlord’s son is getting divorced and wants to move into our house so we are on the hunt for something new. It’s not ideal because we have to be out the day after we get back from my brother’s wedding and we really love our house but I am trying to look on the bright side and hoping we’ll find a great new home for our family.