There are days that are full of fun and laughter and then there are days that grab you hard around the ankles forcing you (cartoon style) backwards and forwards leaving you wobbling as though you’ve had the rush of adrenalin only a roller coaster can induce and this, I learnt during the weekend, can be brought about by something that may seem insignificant to many.
While yesterday was pretty normal: pre 6.00am rise at the weekend, tasty breakfast, a bit of shopping in the morning and games in the afternoon. But, by 7pm the little lady wanted to go to sleep so off she trotted but by 10pm, with a little whimper from upstairs, she was soon letting us know something was up. She had managed to edge her way out of her room and had climbed into our much bigger bed with random bits of washing, tubes of toothpaste, a roll of gauze tape and the odd sock or three (our bedroom is not a romantic haven – whose is?!?). She’d bedded in for the night but something had awoken her. As we rushed up to see what we could do, it became clear she was hot. Not hot in her usual deep sleep heat, but flushed hot. Her whole body seemed to be aflame! Panic stations! What’s this? We’d never come across this before. She’s rarely ill. With much of the baby paraphernalia in transition to the nursery room, we were scrambling to find the thermometer and in the light of her rarely being ill, of course, we hadn’t kept up to date with the battery life of the ‘good’ thermometer. The back up thermometer would have to do. Panicking that it wasn’t an oral thermometer and we should actually be placing it under her armpit or even between her toes (we’re not medical people either), it was clear that she was experiencing some sort of temperature which had risen to 38.5. The red that covered her wasn’t a rash but it required a Google and a few deep breaths.
After a few mad dashes around to gather all of the necessary equipment, the paracetamol was administered and the calm began to be restored. Now, don’t get me wrong. We had tried not to panic in her presence and in hushed whispers from the bathroom, we’d made our plan of action and we had managed to cool and settle her but boy we were spooked.
I know in comparison to some parents’ experiences this was nothing and really given that she’s never really caused us any trouble with teeth or sleepless nights, last night would really register as insignificant for some but for us it led to some serious heart pounding and throat tightening.
It’s not really until after the event, when you start to reflect, that you realise just how lucky you are to have such a miracle that is a child. And, in true let’s be prepared style, there was a rush to the supermarket to get more pink sticky paracetamol, cough medicine and batteries for the thermometer – oh and the last thing that should save any future panic: a quick download of the instructions for the back up thermometer. Phew – it is intended to be placed in the mouth and no where else!